#the way the Enterprise crashed made no sense to me

[smol-blue-bird]

star trek generations is. uh. not that good

[awkward-walking-potato]

How about this; wade with a partner who works as a drag queen? his personality is like wade's, but to a lesser extent. despite the nature of everything he does, he can be a lot more stern at times. probably an odder request but I love drag culture and wanna work on becoming one myself eventually. and I love my boyfriend deadpool

Deadpool and the Drag Queen of Chaos

In the neon-lit underbelly of New York City, where the streets are alive with the buzz of late-night energy and flashing lights, there exists a club that stands out among the rest. "The Glitter Dagger" is more than just a hotspot; it’s the epicenter of fierce performances and flamboyant fashion. Behind its glittering facade, though, lies something even more extraordinary: Y/N, the drag queen with an attitude as sharp as their stilettos.

Y/N, whose drag persona "Foxy Fierce" was a local legend, had become the unlikely partner of Wade Wilson—better known as Deadpool. Their relationship was a blend of chaos and charm, with Wade’s unpredictable antics complementing Y/N’s more controlled, though no less vibrant, brand of extravagance.

Tonight, however, was far from ordinary. Deadpool had managed to crash the club’s VIP section, his red-and-black suit starkly contrasting with the glamorous surroundings. He was in a particularly irreverent mood, having just thwarted a minor criminal enterprise involving rogue circus performers.

Y/N, now out of drag and in a sleek, dark suit that radiated both class and authority, was eyeing Deadpool with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“Wade, darling,” Y/N said with a raised eyebrow, their tone a blend of mockery and genuine concern, “do you always have to make an entrance like a hurricane with a vendetta?”

Deadpool, unfazed, threw himself onto a plush sofa, tossing a small bag of confetti into the air. “Only on days that end in ‘Y’. Besides, I thought you’d appreciate a little chaos to match your dazzling performance tonight!”

Y/N took a seat beside him, leaning back with an air of practiced elegance. “And you’d be right, if you weren’t so prone to turning everything into a disaster zone. I do appreciate the sentiment, but must you always bring mayhem into my workplace?”

Wade grinned, clearly enjoying the playful banter. “Oh, come on, Foxy! Where’s your sense of adventure? Besides, I’m just trying to protect your stage from nefarious villainy. It’s practically a public service.”

Y/N shook their head with a smile that was half exasperated, half affectionate. “Your idea of ‘public service’ involves a lot of exploding fireworks and questionable judgment. But I suppose I’ll let it slide this time. Just try to keep the damage to a minimum. We’re already dealing with a night of high heels and higher drama.”

As the night progressed, the two fell into their usual rhythm. Y/N managed to gracefully handle the club’s increasingly rowdy patrons while Deadpool offered his unique brand of chaotic support. Between Y/N’s sharp remarks and Wade’s over-the-top antics, they formed a balance that seemed to defy logic but worked in its own quirky way.

Later, as they stood outside the club, the cool night air contrasting sharply with the heat of the evening, Y/N leaned against the wall, their stern demeanor giving way to a softer, more contemplative expression.

“You know, Wade,” Y/N said, looking out at the city lights, “I wouldn’t trade these crazy nights for anything. You might be a walking disaster sometimes, but you’ve got a heart in there somewhere. And, as much as it pains me to admit, you make this life a lot more interesting.”

Wade, leaning casually against the wall beside them, nodded. “And you, my fabulous friend, make sure that life doesn’t get too boring. Even if you do insist on occasionally looking like a glamazon straight out of a disco ball.”

Y/N laughed, shaking their head. “Just don’t make me regret this. And remember, if you blow up my stage one more time, I will personally make sure that the next costume you get is made out of sequins and feathers.”

Deadpool’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And with that, they headed off into the night, a dynamic duo of mayhem and glamour, ready to face whatever adventure awaited them next.

[emonydeborah]

November fluff prompt 12: no one left behind

Una gripped the arms of her chair. Sparks flew and her ship groaned with the strain of staying in one piece. Out the viewscreen, the civilian ships warped out of danger, escorted by the rest of the fleet. She didn't smile, but her shoulders straightened with accomplishment.

The enemy ships were all but incapacitated. Only the lead ship continued to fire on her, and Una's ship rattled with each torpedo. Smoke filled the bridge but Una held fast, determined to go down with dignity.

Erica had objected to the evacuation, even more when Una ordered her to the escape pods. But she was gone, like the rest of the crew, and it had fallen to Una to lay in the final course. Shaking and shuddering with each blow, Una's ship crawled determinedly toward the enemy ship.

Una watched the enemy ship grow in the viewscreen, still firing on her but unable to get away. She expected regrets, but as the enemy ship got bigger, only the most extreme option made sense anymore. Of course this was how it would end.

The computer counted down the distance in a futile warning, and Una braced herself for the final screech of metal. Smoke filled her eyes, she couldn't see, she couldn't breathe-

"Got her!"

Una coughed harshly, lungs rattling with the effort of pulling in clean air. A young transporter tech she had never seen in her life puffed up with pride, looking absolutely elated.

"Crewman, what-?"

"You there Captain?" Erica's frantic voice crackled over the comms. Una blinked. The normally dim lights of a transporter room seemed unbearably bright.

"I'm here, Ortegas," Una croaked. A series of whoops and cheers burst through the comms. No one said anything else, and Una turned to the tech, bewildered.

There had been no other ship on her sensors. No other ship in communications range, except-

"Crewman, what ship is this?" she asked, and was gratified when he snapped to attention. Covered in soot and hoarse with smoke as she was, she couldn't have appeared very commanding.

"The Enterprise, Captain." He smiled. "Welcome back." Una attributed the pang in her stomach to an adrenaline crash, and squared her shoulders.

"I see. Is Captain Kirk-?"

The door swished open, and a horde of people swept in. Nyota and Christine seemed to be racing to be the first to hug her, and nearly bowled Una over in the process. Spock was next through the door, stoic as ever but for the tension in his jaw as he met her eyes. She nodded, and his shoulders dropped a centimeter. Erica clapped him on the shoulder, looking as rough as Una felt, and grinned.

"All right, let her breathe," the doctor groused as he pushed through the crowd. McCoy, Una remembered. "How are you, Captain?"

"A little confused," Una said dryly. Spock shifted closer as she took a shaky step off the transporter platform. He watched her intently as she looked around at all the familiar faces. "How did you get to me in time?"

"You are familiar with the Enterprise's capabilities, Captain," Spock said stiffly.

"We set a course as soon as we got your first distress call," Nyota said. McCoy stuck a tricorder in Una's face, grumbling about family reunions.

"They picked up my escape pod," Erica said. "You didn't think we were gonna leave you behind, sir?"

"There's no way you could have reasonably thought you would get to me in time," Una said incredulously.

"Who said anyone on this ship was reasonable?" Christine said. Una opened her mouth, but Christine cut her off. "Just say thank you, Captain." Una's jaw dropped, and Christine grinned. Erica muffled a snort.

Una closed her mouth and swallowed. Spock hadn't let up on his focus, like he was afraid she would disappear if he looked away. Nyota hovered around, brushing her arm against Spock's, and smiled when Una met her eyes. Christine backed off a few steps and Erica threw an arm around her shoulders. She let out an exhausted sigh.

Una's ship was gone, but her crew was safe, and her family was around her. "Thank you."

[whovianwatchingstartrek]

A Whovian Watches Star Trek for the First Time: Part 019 - A Ghost Ship

Star Trek: Enterprise - Season 1 Episode 20 - Oasis

So, the episode opens with Archer, T'Pol and Trip having dinner with a trader, who claims to have found an empty ship, crashed on a remote planet. And, of course, it's supposedly haunted, so of course the crew go to investigate.

I really liked the subtle build up of the crew seeing things. Movement in the corners of their eyes, reflections of unknown face. This episode really know how to build up it's suspense. I wish it had played into the ghost thing a bit more before revealing that they were really people. This episode honestly would have made for great Halloween viewing.

Unfortunately, they pretend to drop the whole ghost ship thing 10 minutes in until about the halfway point, So the 2nd Quarter of the episode gave me a lot less to chew on. Trip got to Rizz up another alien girl (Fortunately he didn't end up pregnant this time), and Malcolm raises a mystery in that the ship shouldn't have enough food to sustain itself. None of that really captured the imagination in the same way "Possibly haunted shipwreck" did, so when the episode revealed that a body genetically identical to one of the survivors on the planet was in an escape pod, I got really excited. The episode was back on Track!

From that point onward, the main mystery is: How are these people alive? How are they existent? The episode's eventual explanation is makes sense enough, similar technology has been explored in Doctor Who. The Data Ghosts from Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead and the EM Ghosts from Under The Lake/Before the Flood.

Aside from the 2nd quarter of the episode, which was a bit of a dip for me, this episode was pretty fun. I'd quite like a future episode to dedicate itself to being scary and suspenseful, in the same way the first 10 minutes were here. It was pretty good episode, but I wish it played up the spooky more. Or maybe I'm just getting into the Halloween spirit a bit too early, who knows.

[stayiinalive]

"Oh, you want to hear all my dirty secrets then?"

⌱         census questions            ⌱  

where are you from and where did you live prior to the crash? do you have an accent from one of those locations? 

"I'm originally from Huston, that's pretty much how my accent aligns on all accounts, at least that's what my colleagues told me."

were you flying with anyone? have you been able to find them alive?

"My husband and... yes... if I hadn't I'd not be remotely as stable as I am right now. No pressure, darling."

everybody’s hiding something—a fear, a weakness, a strength, an unpopular opinion. what are you hiding right now (any additional secrets not mentioned in the app)?

"I have Pokémon cards. The real secret is that I have a stash I couldn't bear to leave behind that I brought on the plane with me. Miraculously they all survived and I like to look at them when I feel stressed."

do you believe rescue is possible at this point? why or why not?

"I believe no matter how likely a rescue is it is possible, we got here right, there has to be a way out." he assured himself, "Or it doesn't make sense!"

gut check: do you expect people to act in their own self-interest or in the interest of others?

"See, this is a tough question and I can't answer it the way you'd like because it genuinely does depend on the person," he assured, ".. some people are out for themselves, others need people, a community, depends on the person really."

what did you dream about last night?

"I had a really vivid dream I was Samwise in the Return of the King but instead of Frodo the ring bearer was Jean Luc Picard and honestly the Enterprise travel made things a lot easier."

[diesoonandsuffer]

my thoughts on star trek: generations

presented in the form of a pros and cons list.

pros:

data saying "oh, shit"

seeing the way picard and kirk interacted

seeing the tng set with movie quality cameras and lighting. it made everything feel really dynamic and it gave a sense of beauty and grandiose to the ship that the show never really achieved. the tos movies were of a different enterprise so they never accomplished this either

the cast being the same age as when the show was on, so it doesn't have the tos movies' problem of everyone being older -- it feels like an elevated episode of the show. between that and the visuals i found the first half really engaging to look at

cons:

really strange pacing. it felt very slow, then a lot happened, then nothing happened for a while, then it was over

anyone who isn't picard or kirk becomes irrelevant once the enterprise crashes

data getting emotions. frankly i had no desire for this to ever happen. while it led to some funny moments i find him more compelling without them. however him crying oil is a nice touch.

i didn't entirely understand what was happening, in general. with most tng episodes whenever they started talking science they would lose me, so all of the stuff with the star and the ribbon made me lose focus. the stuff with the nexus only added to my confusion

kirk's characterization, writing, and shatner's acting. the tos movies are all quite bad in their characterization of kirk, the latter ones even more so, and this one adds to it. it didn't really feel like kirk at all. not even the him being married to a woman or whatever, i don't care about that, it just felt like i was watching shatner rather than kirk. also why were his last words "oh, my" that's sulu's thing. they should have stuck with "it was fun" that felt more fitting of a send-off.

with one more con than pro i guess that means i didn't like the movie? i feel mostly neutral about it, it didn't make me angry and it didn't make me feel any great joy. except for data saying "oh, shit" i would play that part again 50 times. let the android curse.

[lunarfly-studios]

Katherine "Kit" Price

Okay so dA's being the usual buggy garbage site it is and won't let me upload this reference sheet there cause the submission page keeps crashing my browser

SO THIS BBY'S GOING HERE FIRST

I haven't organized/structured a reference sheet in YEARS but I'm actually really happy with how this one turned out, especially for one of my favorite characters to draw/write!

Kit would absolutely put "Eat the rich. Yes, that makes me a cannibal" on a t-shirt, and I appreciate that kind of energy.

She was conceived as both a counterbalance to the corrupt business and political climate present in Biker Mice From Mars while also giving the main cast a broader breadth of resources and putting them on a somewhat more even playing field with Limburger (considering I write him to be a way more calculating threat than he was in the show).

Plus it helps greatly expand the potential for slice-of-life stories as well as major conflicts if they can access for exclusive places or travel anywhere in the world without much hassle.

She's an ally that plays ball in Limburger's court while everyone else is outside throwing rocks and Maltov cocktails at the stadium if that makes sense. It definitely pays to have someone on your side who can afford a lawyer to keep your rebel vigilante tail out of prison.

She's just out here doin' her best to help as many people as possible, send aid, her imposter's syndrome is astronomical

~~~

Basic Introductory Info about her:

Full Name: Katherine Guinevere Price

Honorifics:

Lady or Marquess (On Venus)

Mx. or Ms. (on Earth; Mx. is by default, and she's very selective with Ms.)

Master/Madam (Li only. He uses them pretty interchangeably. Master is pretty general, but Madam is generally when she's getting on his nerves or when he very urgently needs to get her attention.)

Nicknames: Kit, Kitten, Kitkat, Princess, Katie

Aliases:

Kit's someone who tries very hard to keep her work and personal life separate. In the public sphere, she goes by the name Kathleen Victoria Moon.

LunarLight99 is her online gaming handle and her handle on most of her non-work-related social media platforms and personal e-mail.

K.V.Moonlight is her handle on her work-related platforms and her work e-mail.

As a fiction writer, she operates under the pen name Cordilea Rosewood.

Titles:

Chief Executive Officer and Executive Chairman of Lunarlight Enterprises

Co-Owner of LunarTech Industries (With her father, Cedar Price)

Founder of the Iridescent Youth and Wellness Rebahilitation Center

Pronouns: She/They (She is by default in narration. Both are equally acceptable in conversation)

Age: 26-27 Years Old D.O.B: June 20th, 1999

Species: Caucasian/Native American Human / First Colony (Butterfly/Moth) Venusian Kinkaeda

Occupation: Business Magnate, Entrepreneur, Philanthropist, Investor | Fiction Author (mostly just for fun, but it does bring in a small income too)

Economic Class: Billionaire

Personal Summary:

"Wha--No, no, listen. Listen to me. No one buys caviar because it actually tastes good, they buy it to announce to the world 'LOOK AT HOW MUCH MONEY I CAN AFFORD TO THROW AWAY'. And I'm just... not interested in food that doesn't taste good. I'd rather just get Chick-Fil-A and be done with it."

Katherine Price is a creative, compassionate, artistic, and charismatic young woman who achieved great success through unconventional means.

She wasn't born into great wealth, but she didn't work her way up from the bottom either. Her wealth, her position of influence and power, was granted to her as her grandmother's final gift in her will after her death six years ago. After spending her entire life a slave to circumstance, chained by her disabilities and her family's well-intentioned sheltering, she had been granted the tools to lift herself out of poverty. And since then, she made an eternal promise to be the same person for others that her grandmother was for her.

Kit is a firm believer that those with wealth, influence, and power are social leaders with responsibilities to their communities, even if the current sentiment among the wealthy elite feels otherwise, and that those who would horde their wealth like dragons and exploit and trample on the working class for their own benefit have no place in prominent positions of power.

One would think her unending empathy and compassion for the working class would lead to well-intentioned but irresponsible business decisions, but by surrounding herself with accomplished people and utilizing clever, outside-the-box thinking, she's created a business model that created success by putting her workers, consumers, and the public first, and her investors and board of directors second.

She's developed a brand and reputation for herself that's made reception towards her very mixed, in the eyes of the media, the public, and inner elite circles. Some criticize her for her practices being unreasonable, uncompromising, risky, and costly, others admire her for her unbending value in human life above the dollar. Some just can't bring themselves to argue with success, while others are envious of the media attention her controversial decisions generate for her.

Any PR is good PR, but she prefers hers to have positive outcomes. And if nothing else, she's become extremely popular with the younger generation.

Despite all the good she's done, though, Imposter's Syndrome is cruel and unforgiving. None of her success changed her being disabled; suffering Chronic Pain, being autistic, suffering from mental illness, and constantly having to guard her half-alien status from the public. She's created jobs by delegating tasks to those she deems more qualified, but no matter how many lives she's changed and improved, it's never enough. Never enough to justify her obscene wealth.

Despite all the personal freedom and free time and luxuries she has now, in many ways, she still finds herself beholden to others and what she can do for them.

Full Toyhouse Bio (WIP): https://toyhou.se/13050960.bmfm-kit

~~~~~

Katherine Price, Art (c) Me/Lunarlight/QueenFighterfly

Disclaimer: Please do not steal, repost/redistribute, use, edit or trace any of my written or visual works without my written consent.

I also do not consent to my art being taken and utilized for AI training.

I do not post my art on Instagram or Pinterest, so if you find it there, it wasn't me and was posted without my consent or knowledge.

[starfleetimagines]

Hey! If you don't mind, could I request one with Scotty From AOS?

I love adventure, discovering new things, I've been training martial arts since I was a kid, I love learning about different cultures, dancing, cooking, writing...

I’m going to study history, possibly majoring in Egyptology.

In personality at first I am not very open but then when I catch trust I become quite open and crazy (in a good way), I usually get along with most people and I have facility to make friends, I don’t usually get angry but I’ve been told that when I get angry I give respect, I usually stand up by the ones who can't stand by themselves and I like to protect the people I love.

Could it be an accidental confession from him, with the typical "Because I love you" and then he being like "well, I fucked it up, right" because he thought the feeling wasn't mutual (which, of course, is it)?

don't feel pressure to do it and if you want to modify something you are free to do it of course, thank you very much ❤️ have a great day <3

I don't mind at all! xx

You'd definitely work in sciences on the Enterprise; probably being a xenohistorian or xenoanthropologist. Basically, someone who studies alien cultures and histories! You and Scotty therefore wouldn't work in the same department, but whenever your equipment malfunctioned, he'd be the first you'd call. You two would also work together on away missions, of course, and you'd be mutual friends with the bridge crew.

There would be an accident one day. You and Scotty would be on an away mission, exploring ancient, abandoned passageways of a clearly advanced, but long-gone, civilization. Scotty would be there to help deactivate any boobytraps and to help restore power to the place. He'd be working on one such boobytrap as you used your scanner to study some old busts sitting along the wall. The next thing you knew, Scotty was throwing himself at you, shoving you to the ground before you had time to even scream. You'd hear a loud whoosh and would look up to see an arrow embedded in the wall where you'd been standing. You'd stammer out a thank you as he helped you to your feet. He'd explain that while disabling the boobytrap, he tripped a backup one. You'd ask him why he put himself in harm's way rather than just yelling to warn you. He'd shrug it off, saying he wasn't thinking, but you'd pester. "Why did you do that? You could have been hurt. You could have died-" "Because I love you!" he'd exclaim, and silence filled the corridor. You two would stare at each other, realization of what he'd said crashing down on you both. "I... messed that up, didn't I?" he'd ask finally, rubbing his hands over his face a few times. You'd take his hands, bring them down, and stare into his eyes. "No," you'd say. "I've been waiting for you to tell me that for months.. I would have said it first, but... I was afraid you didn't feel the same way." Scotty would stare in disbelief - he'd managed to capture Y/N Y/L/N's heart? He wouldn't be able to formulate a response, so he'd do the only thing that made sense: kiss you.

Personal blurb requests are now closed!

[ragingbookdragon]

Let It All Come Crashing Down

Batbrother x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Past Assault/Abuse

Author's Note: One of my favorite episodes of Criminal Minds was always the one where Morgan came face to face with his abuser. The dialogue at the end of the episode fits Batbrother's past too. But, this does mention past assault. If this is a triggering subject, please don't read. -Thorne

**********************************************************************

When he’d told Dick about the incident when he was seventeen, he didn’t expect it was going to come back full front. He’d kept tabs on the man whenever his former CO would move bases, when he promoted, when he eventually retired and relocated to Gotham City, opening a military assistance center. It was a farce, and he knew it. A place where the old CO could still continue his reign of fear on those still in the military and those outside.

***

He stared at the screen in the Batcave, ignoring the bickering of his youngest sibling and his father’s oldest friend, recounting every moment that led to the mission. A woman his age found dead, murdered, the brother charged with the crime. All evidence supported the facts, but (Y/N) knew. He knew deep down something else was going on, especially when he learned that the brother had attended the center in Gotham.

“Isaac Keegan is going to be sent to Blackgate tonight,” Bruce murmured. “He won’t last the night.”

(Y/N) shook his head. “He didn’t do this.”

His father glanced at him. “How do you know?”

“Doesn’t matter how I know,” he retorted with mild annoyance. “But I know who really did this.” He turned, glancing at Ghost-Maker. “Think you can get Isaac out of the armed van and back here without anyone dying?”

The vigilante cocked his arms over his chest. “Of course. But why do you wanna talk to him?”

“I don’t. But I need him alive long enough to get a confession out of the real killer.” (Y/N) answered, looking at Tim with a gaze that had his younger brother’s spine going straight; he could feel the seriousness ebbing from his older brother. “And I’m going to need your help with this.”

***

He didn’t like stepping into enemy territory without protection. He felt naked without his nano suit, even more so without his sidearm, but the last thing he needed was for the metal detectors in the building to go off and let the remaining people inside know he was there.

Slipping down the halls, he took a moment to catch his breath before he turned the corner into his old CO’s office.

“Davis.”

The older man looked up, eyes widening at the sight of his former subordinate. “(Y/N)? Is that—you’re alive?”

“I am,” he answered and Davis’ face split into a fake smile.

“I thought you’d died years ago in Afghanistan.”

“Not exactly.” (Y/N) kept away from the desk, away from close contact; he knew he could take the man, but he wanted the confession first before they came to blows, if they did. “I heard about Jessica Keegan.”

Davis frowned. “It’s a shame what happened to her. Even more so a shame that Isaac was the one who did it.” He shook his head. “I thought he was doing to well with his treatments too.”

(Y/N) tapped the device in his pocket. Now Tim. “Except that Isaac didn’t kill Jessica.”

“Excuse me?”

“All these years, I’ve kept my mouth shut,” (Y/N) said. “I’ve let you go on being a hero. Admiral Davis, the great war hero.”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Davis questioned, face contorting in confusion and the younger man scowled.

“God, I was so afraid of you when we were in Afghanistan,” he admitted. “I was afraid of going to Command about it all. Afraid of losing every promotion and achievement I was being given.” (Y/N) stepped forward, expression shifting to anger. “But that’s how you’ve always worked, isn’t it? You made sure there was a helluva lot to lose if someone came forward, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you think you remember about Afghanistan,” Davis said. “But—”

“No, no, no,” he interrupted. “See it’s not what I remember that’s going to hurt you, Davis. The business between us has been over way too long ago to matter.” (Y/N) explained. “You’re protected by a statute of limitations and that’s my fault.”

Davis shrugged. “Then good evening.”

He glared. “You set Isaac up! You knew his sister wanted him to call someone about you. So you killed her and framed him as a distressed veteran?” (Y/N)’s face pinched as he accused, “You killed her because you knew someone was going to piece it all together and come after you, didn’t you?”

“Now you’re just throwing accusations around.” Davis replied and (Y/N) slapped a decoration off his desk.

It shattered and he shouted, “God, I should’ve told someone about you when I was in Afghanistan! When you were ‘training’ me.” He took another step forward, voice lowering dangerously. “Well, you know what happens in cases like this? Once that dam breaks, the flood comes.”

He raised a finger. “One servicemember stands up, just one. And then another one, and another. Because they’re not afraid of your repercussions anymore—they know they’re not alone.” (Y/N) tipped his head up. “Isaac Keegan is your dam.”

For the first time since they’d started speaking, Davis showed his anger as he barked, “Whatever lies Isaac told you—”

“THEY ARE NOT LIES!” (Y/N) yelled. “YOU DID THE SAME THINGS TO ME!”

“I didn’t do a damn thing to you or to Isaac—”

“One by one, they’re going to pile up until there’s so many accusations, you can’t say that they’re all lies!”

Davis thrust his hands to his chest. “Do you have any idea how many men and women I helped promote? How many lives I’ve saved with my service?” He gestured to (Y/N). “Look at you! You would’ve been dead in a shallow grave if I hadn’t helped you.”

“Yeah, well that shit wasn’t for free, was it?” (Y/N) demanded, throat tightening with emotion.

“I pulled you out of the gutter.” Davis murmured.

He shook his head, the tears of anger flashing the pain from his voice. “I pulled myself out of the gutter! All the way to the top military squads! I did that!”

“You’re saying I had nothing to do with making you who you are?” Davis questioned, a look of offense on his face.

(Y/N)’s rage cooled, shoulders sinking back as he raised his head and admitted, “No Davis. Actually, I’m saying you have everything to do with making me who I am.” He gazed at the man. “Because of what you did to me, I’m the man who’s going to spend the rest of his life making sure abusers of power like you face the consequences.”

“(Y/N),” Davis comforted. “I never meant to hurt you.” His expression turned sympathetic. “You could’ve said no.”

He turned his head away, jaw clenching so hard it hurt, then he looked back at him, and two men turned the doorway. (Y/N) watched Davis’ eyes widen in shock.

“Quinton Davis, you’re under arrest for the rape and murder of Jessica Keegan.” The two military police officers walked around (Y/N), and each took an arm.

Davis shifted. “I’ve helped a lot of veterans and service members.” He started thrashing. “Nothing in this goddamn city is going to be the same with me. Without the center, who’s going to look after them?”

His expression hardened. “Wayne Enterprises will. I will.”

“Wait a minute damnit!” he looked at (Y/N), pleading, “(Y/N), please, isn’t there anything you can do for me?”

(Y/N) got in Davis’ face. “You can rot in hell.”

He watched the MP’s drag away the screaming man before letting out a shaky breath and reaching up to his chest, yanking off the necklace that had the camera built into it. Tim had no doubt cut the feed by now and he shoved it in his pocket, free hand coming up to wipe away the tears in his eyes.

***

“What happens now?” the young man asked, dark circles under his eyes making him seem wearier.

(Y/N) sighed. “There’s going to be a trial. Davis will face the consequences.”

Isaac frowned. “I’m going to have to testify, aren’t I?”

“Yes. But I know who the prosecutor is. She’s good. She’ll nail Davis to the wall for everything.”

“I…I don’t know if I can do it.”

He reached out and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Then do it for Jessica.”

“I miss her.” Isaac whispered, head lowering as he sniffed. “I should’ve spoken out sooner.”

“I know,” (Y/N) murmured. “I feel the same.”

His head cocked up, teary eyes gazing into (Y/N)’s. “Will you be there?”

“I’ll probably be called by the prosecutors to testify.” He shrugged. “But with the statute of limitations, I don’t know how much it’s going to weight in our favor.”

“But you already told the world about your past with Davis?” Isaac said. “We—we all watched it live.”

“That was just the start.” (Y/N) said. “We have to see it to the end. For all the servicemen and women he abused over the years.” He turned, looking at Nightwing and Red Hood. “They’ll take you back to your apartment.”

Isaac nodded, starting to follow, then he stopped and looked back at (Y/N). “How’d you go on after Afghanistan?”

He met the young man’s eyes, then he glanced at his family. “I was still needed. Still am.” (Y/N) turned back to Isaac. “You never forget it…but it does get better.” He stuck his hand out. “And I’ll be there when you need me.”

They shook hands and he watched Isaac walk off with his brothers before he turned and moved to the railing overlooking Gotham Bay. A multitude of emotions swirled in his chest, but a sense of relief rested on his shoulders, and he let his head drop, the tears starting to drip down his cheeks.

Someone’s hand rested between his shoulder blades, followed by a deep voice comforting, “It’s okay, son.”

He shook his head. “I should’ve said something earlier.”

“It’s not your fault,” Bruce affirmed. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

(Y/N) looked up, gazing at his father. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” the man murmured, expression soft. “But why didn’t you come to me?”

He paused, inhaling shakily as he said, “It only lasted for a short time. I was promoted and inducted into the super soldier program.” He shrugged. “By the time I finally wanted to tell someone, Davis had already left the compound and too much time had passed for it to matter.”

(Y/N) gazed out at the water. “It’s not over…but the world knows what he really is now. And all the people who suffered are going to see justice.”

Bruce leaned on the railing next to him. “You don’t show many signs of a survivor,” he noted. “You keep it all under wraps.”

“I learned during the super soldier program that there are worse things than what happened to me.” (Y/N) sighed. “Davis’ abuse might be what makes me so hateful of abusers, but when I started the team, I refused to let it control me and my life.” He raised his head. “I was going to live my life to the fullest, with whoever I wanted and even if I never told anyone, that was going to be the one part of me no one would ever take away.”

His father observed him for a moment then he stood, nudging (Y/N) until he did too; they looked at one another, a father and a son, and Bruce said, “I’m proud of you, (Y/N). For everything.”

(Y/N)’s mouth opened and snapped shut once, twice, a third time, then he raised one hand to cover his eyes as the lower half of his face twisted in pain, the other fumbling blindly for Bruce. His father caught him, one strong arm wrapping around (Y/N)’s back, the other pressing his son’s head to his shoulder.

“I’m here son,” he murmured. “I’m always going to be here.” He pressed his lips to the young man’s temple. “And I love you son. So much.”

“I love you too, dad,” he choked out, holding onto his father for dear life.

[ultrahpfan5blog]

Retrospective Review: The Dark Knight Rises

In 2012, TDKR was easily the most hyped film for me. Even more than The Avengers, which had come out earlier that year and taken the BO by storm. I remember going to see the film distinctly because I had made an excuse and left my internship for the day early so I could attend a TDK trilogy screening, with Batman Begins starting at 6, TDK at 9, and then TDKR are midnight. I had never done anything like that before and it was just an electric experience for me. I remember watching each movie and thinking that each movie was the best of the trilogy after watching it. I absolutely loved TDKR when I first watched it. It was easily the biggest and most bombastic movie of the three, but also emotionally involving. Over the years, my opinion has really not changed. I kind of find it annoying that TDKR is considered the "bad" movie of the trilogy, when its a damn good one, with its only fault being that its not as good as TDK. Unfortunately, this movie also ended up being my last midnight screening after the unfortunate shooting in Colorado at the midnight screening, which really changed the concept of Thursday night screenings as the screenings started to get pushed back to the point where for some big movies, the movie basically releases on Thursday. In terms of the third movie in the trilogy, it ranks at the top for me. Granted, there is not much competition for this, with CA: Civil War and Thor: Ragnarok to be the only notable third comic movies of high quality. Both of those movies are great, but TDKR is really the only one of those which is a true trilogy capper given Civil War ended up being more an Avengers film than a Cap film and both Civil War and Ragnorok were more stepping stones to Infinity War/Endgame, then an end of a story arc for any character. To me, this film holds up on rewatch.

TDKR is truly the first film in the trilogy that doesn't stand on its own, by design. Nolan has been on record saying that he never designed these films as a trilogy. Batman Begins really stands on its own as an origin story and if you think about it, TDK stands on its own as well. Because TDKR was intended to be the film that closes out the trilogy, its the only film that ties in events of Batman Begins and TDK as well as having a story of its own. So you do need to know the events of the previous two film to enjoy the intricacies of this film and its also a big, sprawling narrative as a result, with a lot going on, with a big ensemble. For me, that is what makes this film really special. This is a film that has a big cast and all of them are key players in this narrative. This is a film where no one feels like he or she was wasted. The film, like TDK, gives Bane a spectacular opening. The plane sequence is something spectacular, and we truly get a sense of how powerful and fearless Bane and his cronies are, when they make the CIA look weak in comparison. We also see the fanatical belief of Bane's followers and Bane's charisma when his follower doesn't bat an eye when he is told he needs to die in order for people to believe in the plane crash. The film then immediately fades into the new status quo of Gotham. A city where there seems to be s distinct class and financial divide between the rich and the poor. The rich and powerful seem to have used Harvey Dent's legacy as a way to keep crime under control and Bruce is basically in self imposed exile. We se a lot of the key players in the set up even before we see Bruce for the first time. We see a guilt ridden Gordon, still doing his job in a hands on way, his second in command Peter Foley, who is socializing with the rich and powerful, Wayne Enterprise board members John Daggett and Miranda Tate, who seem to have opposing interests with Bruce Wayne, and Selina Kyle, who is initially presented as just a maid. Bruce's reintroduction is brilliant as we see him as a limping, frail man, and there is a brilliant turn in Selina's character, as we see the street smart crook make an appearance. I love that there is a slight smile on Bruce's face after Selina escapes, as if its the first time that he's felt alive in years. It immediately sets up the Bruce and Selina dynamic for the remainder of the film.

The film takes its time to set all the various pieces in play. Before The Batman, TDKR was easily the longest solo superhero movie. I think its the third longest theatrical superhero movie after Avengers: Endgame and The Batman, unless I'm missing something. I feel the additional time is very beneficial to the movie because the film has a lot to set up since there is a big 8 year gap between TDK and TDKR and a lot of things have changed and there are a fair amount of new characters to set up. All the character are interconnected. Daggett ends up being a very key character for the first act of the film since he's the mastermind behind bringing Bane into Gotham and getting Selina involved with stealing Bruce's fingerprints. We also get introduced to John Blake, who represents the idealism that Gordon and Batman once had and lost. He's really our eyes and ears in Gotham in this movie as he is the guy in the midst of it all, even as Bruce/Batman is working his way back into the midst of it. The film delves into the themes of disconnect between the rich and the poor. It definitely feels like a post recession movie, with inspiration from the Occupy Wall Street movement. But the film also feels current with the whole idea of citizen enforced justice, of which we have seen the ugly side of things in real life. There is definitely scenes in the film which feel uncomfortably real now compared to when I first saw the movie.

I love the fact that Bruce is at his most vulnerable in the movie from the very beginning. This a Bruce Wayne that is clearly physically frail, needing a leg brace to get back into becoming Batman, with his finances dwindling and later becoming bankrupt. He feels like a underdog for the first time in the series, because, while he may have faced great many threats, his financial position and power was never under threat. There is also an emotional vulnerability there, because we see the lasting effects of Rachel's death on Bruce and his inability to move on without the mission. This leads to some terrifically acted scenes between Bruce and Alfred, including one leading to Alfred's resignation, which could honestly be a Oscar highlight reel for Michael Caine and Christian Bale. Its one of my favorite scenes in the trilogy. The film turns the themes of TDK on its head. While the end of TDK treated the burial of the truth as the only way to move forward, TDKR shows how that can have unintended consequences that can be even worse. The film kicks into high gear with Batman's re-entrance, the interactions between Batman and Catwoman, and then the confrontation between Batman and Bane, which is honestly the most intense Batman scene till date. The absolute lacking of music and the utter ease with which Bane destroys Batman is phenomenally pictured. Bear in mind, a ruthless defeat of this nature had never been pictured in live action or in animation till then, or since for that matter. The middle act of the film deals with Bane's takeover of Gotham and the ruthlessness of his army and the uprising of the poor against the rich, while Bruce is locked up in Bane's prison, which is a very clever re-imagining of the Lazarus Pit. Its very clever how the pit is where Bruce is sent when he is injured, and he slowly build back his body and his spirit and he climbs out of the Pit rejuvenated and ready to reclaim Gotham from Bane.

The film's last act is honestly my favorite of the series. It is easily the biggest climax of the three films. I liked that Nolan embraced the more pulpy nature of a nuclear threat, full with a ticking clock, yet still kept it from becoming silly. Batman's return and the alliance with Selina and the fight with Bane is a serious amount of fun. The scene where he climbs out of the Pit is euphoric as is the scene where he finally confronts and defeats Bane. There is a real sense of satisfaction when he says "tell me where the trigger is... then, you have my permission to die". The film then implements a twist that did throw me at the time. The fact that Miranda was Talia. In hindsight, I should have suspected it, but I think the movie is quite clever at telling Talia's backstory and making it seem like Bane's, because the film delivers that backstory in short bits so that we don't think too deeply about the sequence of events not making sense for it being Bane who climbed out of the pit. The clues are there, but the film doesn't dwell on them for the audience to really grasp them, especially since there is so much going on at the time. I'm sure others figured out the twist beforehand, but I did get a kick out of it. The final chase sequence is also quite thrilling because we see the Tumblers being used by the league of Shadows, Catwoman operating the Batpod, and Batman operating the Bat, which is the new vehicle for Batman in this movie. Then the entire finale sequence of Batman sacrificing himself and saving the city, the city proclaiming Batman as their hero with a statue of him, Bruce's funeral, Bruce leading Blake to the Batcave with him emulating the iconic shot with the Bats from Begins, Gordon getting a new bat signal, Fox finding out that Bruce in fact fixed the auto pilot system, and Alfred seeing his fantasy come true when he sees Bruce and Selina at the Cafe he frequents in Florence. I like how Bruce lets everyone he cares know about his survival and I love how the end puts all his conversations with Fox about the autopilot in a new light. Its a great ending, with the cute easter egg of Blake being a Robin stand in and a potential new Batman or whatever new hero he chooses to be.

As always, Nolan directs the hell out of this movie. This is easily the most difficult movie to make and I give him a lot of credit that he ties in the themes of all three movies into a coherent narrative. This is not the most tightest script for sure and he makes several leaps of logic that others might have issues with, but the drama behind it is so well executed that I am able to buy into it every time. The Dark Knight Returns, Knightfall, No Man's Land seem to be among his inspirations for this movie. He also mentioned A Tale of Two Cities being an inspiration which is evident. I love little touches like Selina's goggles lifting to give her the cat ears appearance. That was a clever costuming touch. TDKR truly makes his version of Batman into an elseworld story. I know some had complaints with this Bruce walking away from Gotham to be happy at the end, when one of the key elements of Batman is always that there is no happily ever after for him. But I think the idea behind this version was that Batman is able to get Gotham to a place where the citizens no longer have a sense of apathy and are willing to fight for their city, so it no longer needs a Batman. And the way I see it, if Gotham ever descended into chaos, its not like Bruce is dead for real. He could always come back. Hans Zimmer scored this film solo this time and the music is again brilliant. The chant music in the Pit is one of my favorites. I quite enjoyed the dialogue in this movie. Bane in particular has a lot of great lines. The film does a great job filming Hardy in a way where he looks absolutely massive, even though he's not really that big.

Like I mentioned before, this is not the tightest script. There are definitely some messy and some lazy elements in the movie. Like the whole idea of majority of the police force being trapped underground and then somehow being in good enough condition to fight when they come out months later is a little silly. There are some weird time lapses, like it being bright daylight during the stock exchange breakout and within 8 mins its completely dark. There are some awkwardly filmed fight scenes and death scenes. Certainly the Talia death scene feels like it should have been reshot because it just looks weird. While I didn't mind it much, but Bane's death was a little abrupt. The pacing in the middle of the movie slacks a bit with Bruce out in the Pit and the city under Martial Law. But I honestly forgive a lot of these as mostly minor issues because the narrative is a lot grander and the film is juggling a lot of different pieces simultaneously and it does it very well.

The performances are superb. I mentioned in my Batman Begins review that Bale's performance in that is my singular favorite Batman performance. Rewatching this I really got a reminder of how brilliant he was here. He displays a very wide range of emotion in this film and he's quite spectacular, particularly in the scenes in the Pit, which could have been boring if he hadn't carried those scenes quite so effortlessly. His Batman voice is a non issue to me barring one scene. Its overexaggerated in the media because it really lends itself well in certain scenes. Tom Hardy is mesmerizing here. Its very tough to follow in Ledger's footsteps and he has massive handicaps with a mask covering most of his face, but he delivers so much with body language and his eyes. I also honestly love the almost polite voice that he has. It just adds a very sinister edge to him. Joseph Gordon Levitt is terrific as the heart of the film. He's a very rootable character. Anne Hathaway steals every scene she is in. As someone who knew her primarily from The Princess Diaries, I was shocked at how perfect she was. Her transitions from vulnerable to street smart thief are fantastic. She also adds a lot of sly humor to the film and she is missed in the middle section, where she is absent for a while. The series veterans, Oldman, Caine, and Freeman continue to bring it. Caine has some of his best scenes in the movie, as I mentioned previously and both Oldman and Freeman continue to get meaty roles and deliver on every moment. Marion Cotillard is graceful and wonderful as Talia/Miranda, apart from her awkward death scene. Ben Mendelson is excellent as John Daggett. His death scene is pretty outstanding as we see his expression change as he realizes he has lost control over Bane. Matthew Modine gives a solid performance and gets a redemptive arc of his own. Cillian Murphy and Liam Neeson make welcome cameo appearances as Crane and Ra's respectively.

All in all, this was a terrific trilogy caper. I think it ranks right with Begins, just below TDK, in the list of best Batman films, and honestly in the list of best comic book films. Its a lot of movie and its better for it. I didn't feel it stretched on for too long. At times, it gets a bit too sprawling and tries to juggle too much but it eventually lands on its feet successfully. Its definitely a trilogy that has stood the test of time for me. For me, this ranks as a 9/10.

[preciousthingsareprecious]

That Time Tim Totally Terminated Ra's Al Ghuls Entire Empire Part 1

So. I wrote something very silly. The title says it all, except it doesn't because this bad boy spiraled out to being over 10k and deserving of 2 chapters. Anyway, here is the first chapter featuring all the times Ra's kidnapped Tim because he wanted to recruit him.

Summary:

"Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.” Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

“As you know, I’m always on the lookout for enterprising young individuals with both leadership and fighting experience to join the League of Assassins. Right now I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect person to fill a brand new executive role in a new chapter of my organization.”

AO3 Link

~

Tim wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up in this situation. No really. One moment he’d been in Gotham, crouched behind an old BMW that had been in the same spot for a month, waiting on Batman’s signal, the next he’d woken up in some lavishly decorated room. Was that silk? Or maybe velvet? He had no idea what was hanging around the bed he was laying in, but Tim really didn’t care.

What he was concerned about was his own personal state. He raised his arms --that alone was a good sign-- and confirmed that his mask was in place. He pushed himself up on the ridiculously plush bed, -which was unreasonably plush by the standards of a kid who'd grown up rich, and then gone to live with a guy who had both more money and even better beds.

The point was, the bed was so soft Tim actually had a bit of trouble sitting up.

When he did manage to right himself, he finished taking stock of his own situation and his surroundings. His Robin uniform was intact aside from his belt, but he saw that set on a trunk that looked at least as old as Bruce, a few feet away. The room was, as he already determined, lavishly decorated.

Tim pushed himself out of the bed and onto a carpet so thick he kind of wanted to pull off his shoes and curl his toes in it, but seeing as he still had no idea where he was, who took him, or why, he figured that was probably out of the question. He did make a mental note to ask Bruce for some better carpet when he got home. As a kind of gift for surviving a very weird kidnapping.

Instead, he moved to walk carefully around the room. He found no obvious traps, no cameras or speakers or microphones that were either hidden or out in the open, and both doors were unlocked.

The first he opened revealed a bathroom. The second he cracked open to peer out of. His eyes locked on that of an honest to goodness ninja standing guard outside the door. The man locked eyes with him and Tim snapped the door shut with a click.

Welp, that answered the who and maybe even the where of Tim’s abduction. Ra’s Al Ghul. He was pretty sure if he gave the ninja ten minutes to go find Mr. al Ghul himself, he’d have the why too.

While he waited, Tim snapped his belt back around his waist, comfortable to have its weight back, even if being in a League stronghold meant all the tricks in his pockets were basically useless on his own. Still, it was nice to feel fully like Robin again.

After that it was a matter of waiting.

Tim paced an actual trench into the thick carpet as he waited. Batman was of course looking for him. That was a given, he just had to wait for the man to find him. Or for Ra’s to send him home? He really wasn’t sure why the Eco-terrorist would have taken him in the first place beyond a really weird obsession with Batman's various sidekicks.

How come all of Bruce’s baddies seemed to have a strange fixation on Robins? It was weird how many went out of their way to kidnap and attempt to recruit him, Dick, and if the stories were to be believed, Jason too.

Just as Tim was starting to turn that particular thought over in his head, the door to his room opened and Ra’s himself strolled in.

“Timothy.” the man drawled.

“Ra’s.” Tim replied, suddenly totally and completely unsure what to do with his hands, voice, feet, and general self. This wasn’t a fight after all.

He settled for crossing his arms and being terribly glad his domino hid his eyes.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here.” Ra’s said.

Tim shrugged, “It doesn’t take the world’s greatest detective to guess that.”

The man frowned at him, and Tim started to wonder if maybe he should be watching his words a bit. He wasn’t in Gotham with Batman at his back after all. But then again, Ra’s must need something from him right? So a little sass was okay, what was Robin without a smart mouth after all?

“I mean--” Tim started, unable to stop himself now that he was thinking about it, “I can probably start to guess. You didn’t kill me and I’m not in a dungeon so you’ve got to want something from me right? I bet this is some blend of trying to win me over and also hold me above Batman because you--” he paused for a moment trying to remember if Bruce had been on Ra’s’ trail at all lately.

He dropped his arms and clapped, remembering, “You’ve been trying to break into energy and you want Wayne Enterprise to back you and legitimize your business. So you’re holding Tim over Bruce, but you probably want Robin because you and like half of Batman’s rogues have this weird obsession with teen heroes for some reason."

At some point he’d stopped looking at Ra’s and actually started pacing again. When he stopped talking his feet stilled and he looked back up at Ra's and grinned, ""So, am I hot or freezing cold?”

He expected Ra's to looked angry or irritated, instead he looked amused.

“You are quite warm. Though I would contend the assertion that I have a weird obsession with teen heroes. I am only interested in the exceptional, and you Timothy, are exceptional indeed.”

Tim gulped, “I mean--not really? But thanks.”

Ra’s waved him off, “We will speak more later. You are correct, I do intend to use you as a bargaining chip against your guardian--”

“Dad.” Tim interjected.

The man raised an eyebrow but continued, “However you are not a prisoner in the traditional sense. You may wander the compound with one of my men by your side to ensure you do not get into trouble. If all goes well you will be returned to Batman within a reasonable amount of time. Unless, of course, you do decide you would like to stay and learn from me.”

“I don’t really see that happening.” Tim said, “But I'll be sure and let you know if I make a sudden turn towards world domination.”

Again, Tim expected some kind of retaliation, but he was thankfully ignored. Ra’s left him with a warning not to cause undue trouble and soon Tim was alone in the room again.

He spent the next couple days wandering the compound somewhat aimlessly. He had a phone call with Bruce where he promised his dad that he was totally fine if a little bored, and spent the rest of his time trying to avoid Ra’s. The man was kind of relentless in his attempts at winning Tim over to his side and sought him out at meals, when Tim was trying to train a bit at one of the many gyms, and even once while Tim was wandering a rather fantastic garden. Each time, Tim did his best to wiggle out of the man's suggestions and just get back to wiling away the time between then and getting home.

Thankfully, it was all over in four days when Batman came crashing in with Nightwing and Batwoman to rescue him, and soon Tim was home and settling back into normal life.

He’d actually almost forgotten about the whole Ra’s kidnapping him until it happened again. Once had been a surprise, two times was starting to look deliberate.

This one lasted a week with Ra’s claiming it was because he still really wanted that energy deal and he just couldn’t understand why Bruce wasn’t willing to trade that for his ward (son Tim had ground out in irritation).

Tim almost believed him, until he woke one morning to find a pamphlet had been slipped under his door, it was literally a flyer promoting hiring in the League. Tim looked over it and had to laugh out loud. The text was done in a mix of papyrus and other fonts and whoever made it had used clip art. It looked like someone had typed it up in Microsoft word in like half an hour.

He spent the rest of his time there re-designing the flyer, with a ninja hanging over his shoulder as he used one of the League computers. The new one wasn’t the best flyer in the world, but Tim was pretty proud of it, and it was much better than the first draft.

When he was done, he pocketed the original, then pinned a note to the new one that said: Ha! Not until you get better designers.

Batman rescued him again, and Tim pushed the double kidnapping and Ra’s’ weird obsession to the back of his mind until the next time he was with Steph.

They were in the manor watching a Chopped marathon and Tim was telling her about both kidnappings.

“So he’s super into energy? How come he didn’t nab Dick? We all know he’s Bruce’s favorite.” Steph teased, popping a chip into her mouth.

“Setting aside that obvious lie, that’s the thing,” Tim continued, digging out the flyer he’d kept, “It has nothing to do with energy or Dick. I’m pretty sure Ra’s is trying to recruit me.”

He showed her the paper and Steph snorted, spraying chips out as she laughed, “No. Freaking. Way. I have to tell Cass. Let me show her this, please I’m begging you.”

Tim groaned, “Yeah, sure, but don’t you think it’s weird?”

She shrugged, taking the flyer to look it over, “Of course, but the B-man attracts weird like ice cream dropped on the ground attracts ants. Give him six months, and Ra’s will move onto a different way of trying to piss off Batman.”

“I hope so.” Tim said.

The third time Tim woke up in the elaborate room he was getting really sick of the decor and the headache that came with being knocked out and dragged halfway across the world.

“You know.” Tim started, the moment Ra's walked into his room (and it was actually Tim’s room he’d learned from one of the ninja guards), “You could have waited a month this time, to at least pretend this wasn’t all about your super weird plan to try and convince me into letting you adopt me.”

Ra’s opened his mouth to respond, but Tim wasn’t done.

“Which, by the way, I’m taken already. B did the whole adopting thing, so you missed that window. Though, I guess that probably doesn't really matter to you in the grand scheme of things since you keep kidnapping me. You are aware that kidnapping isn’t the best way to convince someone that your way is the right one, right?”

“Also, would it kill you to pick up some --I don’t know-- books on recruitment or something? I don’t understand how you’ve managed to get so many guys on your side it’s--” Tim started, but Ra’s had caught on to Tim’s mood at this point, conceded temporary defeat, and made a hasty retreat.

Tim didn't see him the whole rest of the day, and by the next morning Batman showed up, swinging in for another rescue and all was fine and good and normal for a while.

Until, of course, it wasn’t.

It was the fourth kidnapping that really set Tim off.

He woke up back in that stupid room with it’s stupid decor and those stupid posters ready to burn the place to the ground. But something stopped him, a premonition. Like if he was patient for just a little longer he’d find a good and proper form of revenge to take on Ra’s for his total inability to take a hint.

At some point two ninja came by to take Tim to meet with Ra’s. As they walked Tim couldn’t help but notice the posters literally lining the hallways they walked through.

They were of two wildly different styles, but both struck a thought of familiarity in his mind. One was obviously a play on the classic “I want you in the army” poster. The other ripped off old “pin up” recruitment posters. Both made him laugh, and Tim pulled a couple of each down to save to show the Titans. He had a feeling Bart and Kon would lose their minds over these.

He had just folded them up and shoved them in his back pocket when they reached an office. Inside, Ra’s sat in a chair and motioned Tim to sit in one across from him.

“Thank you for joining me, Timothy.”

Tim sat and shrugged, “Not like I had much of a choice.”

Ra’s waved him off. As he did, a different ninja from either of the ones who’d escorted Tim to the office came in with a tray of tea. He handed Ra’s a cup, then gave one to Tim, and left the set on a table between them.

The whole vibe was kind of awkward and strange. Tim felt very much like he had one time a year ago when he’d realized halfway through a date that things were not going to work out. He hadn’t been able to end the date then and there, and had spent another two hours awkwardly making small talk and trying to avoid promising a second date.

“Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.”

Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

“As you know, I’m always on the lookout for enterprising young individuals with both leadership and fighting experience to join the League of Assassins. Right now I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect person to fill a brand new executive role in a new chapter of my organization.”

Tim took a sip of his tea in an attempt at avoiding having his mouth drop open in shock. Ra’s sounded like something out of a “Executive success seminar” that was just a veiled multilevel marketing scheme.

“To put it plainly, Timothy, I want you to become my apprentice. I know you and assume you might be hesitant to accept this lifestyle so I’ve prepared for you something of a presentation on what that might entail.”

Tim couldn’t stop a laugh from bursting out of him, but he did manage to turn it into a kind of cough.

“Wait--wait.” he said, almost choking on his tea, “Are you about to show me a powerpoint?”

Ra’s looked a bit put out at that suggestion, almost like he wanted to sigh, “Of course not, it’s more interactive than that.”

Tim held up his free hand, incredulous, “Is this--a job interview Ra’s? I thought you were pitching this to me.”

“No, no. It’s an interactive presentation designed to show you just what you have to gain from joining me.” Ra’s explained, as he did so Tim took another sip of his tea.

He lifted his cup and waved it lightly, “Oh yeah, so I’m just in one of those fairy tales then where you make me do three impossible tasks and at the end I get the happily ever after dip in the lazarus pit?”

“It’s only one trial--”

“So it is a task!” Tim declared, almost standing.

“Timothy.” Ra’s snapped, sounding a bit like Bruce whenever Tim and Steph’s antics pushed him a bit too far.

Tim crossed his legs and leaned back into the chair, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Irritating the man was a bad idea, Tim knew that, but this was just ridiculous. He wasn’t going to be sent on a wild quest that might end up with him dunked in a Lazarus Pit or whatever else Ra’s had in mind that would supposedly prove how great it would be to work for him.

“If you are not going to take this seriously, then there are other ways of showing you why joining me is a good idea that are not nearly as pleasant.” Ra’s growled.

Tim held up his free hand, “I’d rather not find out, give me your pitch or send me off with your best ninja or whatever you were planning.”

He figured playing along would work for now. He could put off giving Ra’s an answer until Bruce came in for a third rescue. When he was home, they were going to have a serious conversation about ninja proofing the manor. Ra’s could not keep kidnapping him like this, they had to have some kind of security measures in place.

“Wonderful. I’m sure after your tour you’ll have a better understanding of what I have to offer you.”

Tim ended up following someone Ra’s called his “best general” around the compound for an hour. The guy showed Tim the training rooms, the medical suite, sparring rings, a variety of ninja’s actually practicing, and at one point they even ended up in the library. The general had been given instructions to pause anywhere Tim wanted him to, and so they lingered in the library for a bit.

He had to admit, Ra’s had a fantastic library.

The general didn’t seem worried about Tim getting lost, or escaping, and waited by the door while he wandered the massive room.

And boy was it huge. It was bigger than the main floor of the cave, with stacks and stacks of books on two floors. Some of the volumes looked ancient, and there were even scrolls shelved on the second floor.

He gingerly pulled one out to examine.

“That is worth more than you could ever imagine.” a sharp, young voice, declared, behind him.

Startled, Tim dropped it back onto the shelf and spun. Before him stood a kid, probably 8 years old, with tousled dark hair, dark skin, and a face that almost echoed some of Bruce’s school photos. It was startling.

“Hi.” Tim said, dumbly, “I know, it’s Ancient Sumarian right?”

“Tt.” the boy crossed his arms, “You are not an idiot then.”

Tim shook his head, “Nah, apparently I’m smart enough to be selected for recruitment.”

The kid nodded, “So you are Grandfather’s young detective. He speaks highly of you.”

Grandfather? Tim’s brain spun. This kid was Ra’s al Ghul’s grandkid? He ran the numbers, the kid’s mom was either Talia or Nyssa. If he had to put money on it, Tim figured the boy before him looked more like Talia than her sister. And his other features--like Bruce’s?

No.

No.

No. Freaking. Way.

“That is hardly language to use here.” The boy said, arching an eyebrow at him.

Tim hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud, but apparently his surprise had been so great he had. He cleared his throat, “Sorry, I just never expected Ra’s to have a grandkid.”

“It is not surprising to me, I am his heir. Born to inherit the League and rule the world one day.”

Okay, that was a lot to unpack. Just a totally wild amount, but Tim wasn’t super focused on the world domination thing just yet (maybe later when he had a chance to process all of--well, all of it), “Sorry to keep pressing but, doesn’t having an heir kind of--I don’t know, put his whole Eternal Ruler of the League thing in jeopardy?”

“Tt. It is not my place to question my Grandfather’s plans. I simply know what I have been told, that I will inherit the League one day in his stead.”

“Well,” Tim rocked back on his heels casually and grinned, “That might be a long loooong time.”

The kid’s brows furrowed as if he had not really considered that idea before. He opened his mouth to say something else, but seemed to decide against it, dropping his arms to his sides to shrug, “If that is his wish then so be it.”

“True.” Tim said, not really knowing what to say. Instead he settled on changing the subject, “You know, if your grandfather gets his way I’ll be spending more time here, so I guess introductions are in order. I’m Timothy Drake-Wayne, but most people just call me Tim.”

He held his hand out to the kid, smiling at him. If he really was Bruce’s then they’d be getting to know each other for sure. Just not here. Tim had zero intentions on letting Bruce’s child stay with the League. Did B he even know he had a kid? Tim thought he’d better figure that out first before kidnapping his little brother.

Little brother. Just that idea made something flutter in Tim’s chest. He’d always wanted a little brother.

The boy scowled at his hand, and did not take it, “You may be correct, even if I do not see what Grandfather seems to. I am Damian al Ghul, heir to the Demon’s Head.”

Tim bit back a grin at just how serious this kid was. He sounded like a little prince, all imperious and haughty. Damian, even his name fit him. He wondered how Damian would do around Dick? Or Stephanie. They’d figure out how to bring a smile out of him.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Damian.” Tim said, “I know we’ve really only just met, but I’m sure you’ll see what Ra’s does in time.”

Damian looked him over again, then gave a sharp nod, “I am interested in seeing what you have to offer.”

“Damian, I found it, where’d you go?” A voice sounded from deeper within the stacks.

Tim started at the sound of the voice. He knew it. Knew it from nights spent chasing shadows, from recording’s Bruce had watched a hundred times when he didn’t think Tim was watching. From Tim’s own desire to know and learn more about his predecessor. It was Jason Todd’s voice.

But that couldn’t be. Jason was dead.

“I am coming.” Damian returned, his tone more childlike than Tim had heard in their whole conversation. He turned back to Tim, “Do not ruin that scroll, I will see you later.”

Then he spun on his heel and walked away.

Tim stepped forward, reaching out for the kid, “Wai--”

“Master Tim, we really must be going.” Tim’s guide was back, stepping into his view as if from nowhere, and stopping Tim’s chase as short as it had been.

“Can we wait just one more second?” he asked, “I wanted to ask Damian something else.”

The man’s mouth turned down in a frown, “I do not have clearance to let you speak with Master Damian. Come, we have more to see.”

Frustration bubbled up in Tim, but unless he wanted to start a fight he wasn’t going to get a chance to talk to Damian right then. The kid had promised to see him later, so maybe he’d seek Tim out. If not, Tim would find a way.

As he followed the man out of the library, he kept searching the stacks of books for a sign of the others. It wasn’t until they’d left the room that Tim caught sight of Damian again, his small form waving animated at a taller, broader one. One that, while older, was unmistakably Jason.

Before Tim could say screw everything, the two turned around a corner, and someone else was clearing their throat. His guide seemed eager to move on, and so they did.

Tim tuned out most of the rest of the tour, and eventually found himself back in the office from before, once again seated across from Ra’s.

“Timothy, I hear you have met my grandson on your tour.” Ra’s started.

“I did.” Tim said, a bit hesitant to go into detail, his guide had seemed like talking to Damian was a pretty serious thing, and suddenly Tim was afraid he’d gotten the kid in trouble.

Ra’s smiled, “He is magnificent is he not? Already he is a skilled warrior, and well trained in his studies.”

“He said he was your heir?” Tim ventured.

The man waved a hand dismissively, “Of course he is, he is my grandson, but that does not mean he will inherit. The boy is valuable to me, for many reasons. He is an excellent tool to wield against my enemies already, and will only become more so as he grows.”

Anger bubbled up in Tim. There was something in Ra’s’ tone that made Tim sick, to call a kid a tool. To plan to just use him his whole life?

“And what, do you want to do that with me too? You said you wanted me to be your apprentice, but if your Heir is just a tool then--”

“No, as I said I want you to take over a branch of the League. You have talents and skills Damian will not. The boy is--” Ra’s shrugged, “Let us call him a vessel. A shell for me to wield in one way or another.”

Well, that just made Tim even more angry. Damian was his grandkid. What Tim wouldn't have given to still have his grandparents, and for Ra’s to just--If Tim wasn’t already dead set on getting Damian home, he would be after this conversation.

“You know what, Ra’s. Let me think on it a while. I’ll get back to you on my answer. I kind of want to see Damian in action a bit, learn what this training looks like in someone closer to my age.”

The man considered this for a moment before nodding, “I will let you watch his sparring session tomorrow. For now, I think we’re done. Have a good evening, Timothy.”

Tim nodded, and left. His mind was racing, he wanted another look at Jason. Wanted to tell Damian about his dad. Wanted to make sure both his brothers were okay.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he missed the black and blue clad arm that reached out from behind a curtain and yanked him back. Nightwing put a hand over Tim’s mouth to quiet him, and then pulled him out the window the curtain had been hiding. They dropped, into nothing--except it was solid?

Tim found himself inside the invisible jet. Inside, and flying away from his newly discovered siblings before he could even argue they needed to be rescued too.

One flight with Wonder Woman and Nightwing later, and Tim was home again, being told in stern tones by both Batman and Nightwing that he really needed to stop allowing himself to be kidnapped by ninjas (like he didn’t know that).

Then he was in his room, in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind whirring. He had learned two things on this trip. Two impossible things. Two things he was going to leverage as soon as he could.

It was late, and he should be sleeping, but instead he texted Steph and Cass in their little group chat.

Tim: Want to cause some chaos?

Immediately he received a response:

Steph: Always

Cass: Who are we going after?

Tim smiled, his fingers dancing over his phone:

Tim: Ra’s.

Cass: Time to teach him a lesson?

Steph: I've been waiting for this, I’ll get the kerosene

Tim: There’s more.

Cass: Tell.

The light flashed on out in the hallway, Tim could see it flicker to life under his door.

Tim: Tomorrow, lunch at that place with the sweet potato fries. Come ready to plan a kidnapping or two.

The next day Tim found both Steph and Cass waiting eagerly for him at the restaurant, a heaping plate of sweet potato fries between them.

“Spill, Bird Brain.” Stephanie said, as he sat down, pushing some fries towards him, “I want to hear everything about this crusade against Ra’s.”

Tim rolled his eyes, and snagged a fry, dipping it in one of the sauces they’d gotten to accompany it.

“As you’ve probably already guessed, I had another visit to the League compound yesterday.” Tim started, “It was more of a day trip this time, but Ra’s did his very best to sell me on signing up.”

“More posters?” Cass guessed, then shook her head seeing Tim’s expression, “What did he do?”

Tim snagged another fry, “Yes more posters, but more than that he gave me a speech right out of a How to Recruit for Dummies book, then sent me on a tour of the building.”

Steph snorted, “Please tell me you recorded it.”

“I did not, but you will never believe what I found on my tour, or to be precise who.”

Both girls paused their snacking, waiting on him to continue.

Tim dropped the first bomb, “Jason Todd, alive and breathing.”

“What, no way.” Steph said, “How’d he even get there? I thought He was buried here?”

He shrugged, “I don’t have any of the details, but they’ve got a Lazarus pit, and Ra’s is weirdly obsessed with recruiting Robin’s, so I’d say his resurrection tracks.”

“Who else was there?” Cass asked, brow furrowed.

Now this he knew neither of them would be expecting. Tim hadn’t expected it. He still couldn’t believe it.

“Ra’s al Ghul’s grandson, Damian.” Tim said, watched both girls look even more confused, then added, “The son of Bruce and Talia. At least, I’m pretty sure he’s their kid.”

The fry Stephanie was holding dropped out of her hand.

Tim watched Cass processing the information, saw her realization that there was another child being raised in the League, then saw the determination cross her face at her own personal decision.

“We are taking them both, correct?” Cass asked.

“We’re taking them both, and burning the place down.” Tim confirmed, “That should properly pay him back for all the time’s he’s kidnapped me this year.”

Steph’s lips turned up into a sharp grin, “The law of equivalent exchange.”

Tim laughed, “You’ve been watching too much tv.”

“It’s prepped me for this very moment.” she shot back, voice falsely grave.

“Batman prepared you for this very moment.” Cass elbowed her.

“No.” Tim said, “I’m going to prep you. And then we’re going to put everything in action.”

They talked, and planned, and debated the pros and cons of letting Tim get nabbed again over just going himself, and eventually after many many sweet potato fries and sodas they were ready.

It was to be infiltration first, fire and kerosene second. Obviously the place was going to go up, but only after they set the stage for rebellion and convinced Damian and Jason to go home with them. Tim didn’t think it’d be a hard sell for Jason, but the kid was another matter altogether. If Tim couldn’t convince him to come along, they may actually end up having to kidnap Damian.

A key to the plan was that only Tim, Steph, and Cass were in on it. There was no way Bruce was giving the green light for such a thing. Besides, Tim wanted to see his face when they presented him with not one, but two, rescued sons from the League.

Over the next week Tim made himself the most kidnappable he’d ever been. He wandered outside, kept to himself, and tried to look as wide eyed as possible. He lingered in parking lots, and took shortcuts down empty alleyways. Basically, he did everything he could to signal he was alone and vulnerable besides hanging a sign around his neck that said “Take me to your (ninja) leader”.

At one point he even stopped, dead center in the middle of an alley and declared, “Wow this sure is a dangerous place to be! I hope I don’t get attacked and kidnapped by ninjas!”

The only response he got that time was from an older woman who stopped at the edge of the alley and very seriously called out, “Careful, young man. Don’t you know there are killer clowns out? You best be on your way before you get hurt.”

Then, at long last, Tim caught sight of one of the League members ducking behind a shadow. He paused his walk, and leaned over as if fascinated by something on the sidewalk in front of him. By the time he’d stood, the ninja was in front of him.

Tim held up his hands in surrender, doing his best not to actually look excited. Then, he was successfully kidnapped for the fifth --and if Tim’s plan worked successfully-- final time.

[joontier]

“V” | part one

synopsis: You zinged. With the captain. Who was human. 

pairings: kim taehyung x female reader 

rating: R (18+) | genre: smut, fluff, angst, crack, minor angst (as of now) ,fantasy, (unknowing) enemies to lovers trope; captain! taehyung x vampire! reader, based off Hotel Transylvania and Girl’s Trip! | warnings: plenty of sexual innuendos, explicit sex) (groping, fingering, exhibitionism, 

word count: 13.1k 

g/n: im splitting this into a two/three shot because i really wanted to post this bc the coward in me is afraid that if i finish and post the whole thing this app might crash on me ajfoiawjefiajwfa n e ways, enjoy this first part and please let me know what you think! 

one. | two. | three.?

navi | m.list

Albeit recorded as one of the smallest countries in terms of area and population, the country of Tersnoa proudly boasts its multiple attractions and rich culture. As the nation’s economy depends heavily on tourism, Tersnoa is considered a hidden treasure amongst the genuine travelers - human and monsters alike. 

Santa Shelea - the monster capital of Tersnoa, is located beneath the lush woods of the small country, hidden to the human eye. Entrance to the city you grew up in is a privilege given only to monsters, though it wasn’t always like that. 

The city used to nurture human and monster liaisons, with relations surpassing mere diplomacy. Humans and monsters shared friendships that run deeper than their contrasts in physical attributes and their innate characteristics. It was a time when both parties realized they were so much alike in plenty of ways and respect was observed by all despite the differences in appearances and culture. Admittedly, monsters had more to sacrifice with these accords due to your more primal urges, but your kind made it work, for the sake of peaceful coexistence. 

The other party, however, did not seem to share the same sentiments for long. 

Santa Shelea was one of the few places left on Earth where monsters sought refuge as your kind of people were constantly drawn out of the places they used to peacefully live at by the humans themselves. You thought Santa Shelea was different - that these people you once even considered family wouldn’t push you away just like what the others did, but it wasn’t before long that the human citizens of the once-glorious city were going to change their minds. 

These selfish, pompous humans conducted an uprising to protest against the presence of monsters in ‘their’ land. It was an awful time to have grown up in, being called a ‘monster’ in all senses of the word, especially from those people you have even considered friends. The human citizens conducted an uprising in Santa Shelea, protesting the presence of monsters in ‘their’ land, ultimately disturbing the peace of the city. 

Humans burned your houses down to the ground, including your helpless mother in their supposed quest for peace. After having kept the harmonious liaisons for quite some time, your kind had gone back to your primitive instincts, fighting for your rights along with an army of beasts, hybrids, witches, and members of the undead. It was catastrophe epitomized, a day that no one wishes to relive. 

It isn't fair to say that the monsters emerged victorious when so many had perished, your mother included. Eventually, these mortal beings realized there were no match for formidable creatures and soon took their leave of the once prosperous city. Soon enough, humans became history to monsters and vice versa. 

Rebuilding your beloved city from scratch was no easy task, proving to be even more difficult with the agony that came with burying the past. To prevent any more man-made disasters in the future, the witches had agreed to cast a spell over Santa Shelea: that your city will forever remain invisible to the human eye. 

And it has remained such until the present, appearing as part of the picturesque mountain ranges Tersnoa has to offer. Far from the city and beneath the mountains of lush forestry, Hotel Tersnoa stands tall in the middle of Santa Shelea - the city where monsters thrive. If you could only speak for yourself, the city could easily pass as the eighth wonder of the world. 

Hotel Tersnoa isn’t the only legacy handed down from your great-great-great-grandfather (“G4 for short”, he’d offered one day, explaining that he had to ‘blend in with the now’). During the past millennia, he had also established a conglomerate of enterprises across the world. He’s even founded BloodHub, an international focus group centered on blood diseases and blood donations but you wouldn’t want to delve on the beginning and end of that. 

The responsibility of taking over the hotel had been passed on to your father since then and his ardency for the hotel was unparalleled, the bequest of the hotel has surpassed the original Hotel Tersnoa of which your grandfathers had initially envisioned it to be. Your father would spend hours on end surveying every detail, nook, and cranny of the beloved establishment, barking orders left and right. 

On top of being a father, he had busied himself with the responsibilities of a hotelier. Yet you knew deep down it was all but a façade to mask the void that your mother left in his heart. There were many nights you’d caught him staring into the distance in a secluded place, away from the hustle and bustle at the hotel. You loved your father dearly, wanting nothing else for him but the happiness he truly deserves. 

When you had turned of age, you insisted on taking over the hotel in your father’s stead. You knew that your mother’s passing had been a toll too great to bear for your father, especially in a place where he is constantly reminded of her. You wanted him to enjoy his life, to bring back the life in his eyes, however ironic it may sound as part of the undead. 

Your father had disapproved of the idea at first, reasoning out that it was too big of a responsibility to hand over. He’d told you that you were still young and he wanted you to enjoy your life while you still could. With your adamancy and endless prodding, you had finally convinced him to cave in. Besides, you’re pretty sure you’ll stay young for a long time.

As you have taken on the commitment of being the lady of the house, or hotel rather, your father spent his time moving from one place to another, taking on different identities so as not to reveal his real one. When you were just starting out with your duties as the new hotelier a few years back, he couldn’t leave you behind for a day, checking up on you every two hours just in case an emergency occurs. As if something drastic could happen when more than half of your customers are already dead. 

Years pass by and hourly check-ups became daily ones and then weekly afterwards, until he calls you from halfway across the world every once in a while, just to tease you if the hotel was just as great as he left it. You hadn’t actually seen him in a year, apparently ‘busy’ with his new business venture in Amsterdam.

That’s why when you pick up his scent nearby, you momentarily stop in your tracks. It isn't exactly unusual for your father to have impromptu visits, but you’ve learned that it’s highly unlikely for your father to drop by at such a time like this. 

He avoids peak season at Tersnoa like the plague, let alone a Friday the 13th special like today, in addition to the most anticipated week-long celebration of the hotel’s six hundred and sixty-sixth anniversary. Your father steers clear of times like these at all costs, always making up excuses to avoid the crowd and the stress that comes with it. So much for being the past manager.

You can’t really hold it against him, as it surely has been an arduous feat having run the hotel for almost two centuries. Even though you both laugh it off whenever you tease him about it, you know deep down he genuinely enjoys attending to his customers and making sure they get the best customer service. 

A scoff escapes your lips when you see the infamous Drac-cape nearing. You’re mildly tempted to ignore him altogether, not wanting to be involved with someone who wore something that has run out of style decades ago. Secondhand embarrassment is a thing, and it’s very real.

You have already lost count of the times you’ve told him to get rid of the ridiculous piece of clothing, yet he dismisses you every time, clinging onto the nostalgic feeling that comes with the cape. In consideration of your request, your father had gone so far as acquiring the services of a handful of stylists to make some alterations to the design, and you have to say you’re pretty impressed with the outcome. What else could you have said? The Drac-cape was old but gold. 

You’re about to greet him when a staff approaches you, holding out a folder with papers that require your signatures. Your father stands a meter away with a proud smile, watching you with fondness in his eyes. Once you finish with the papers, he calls out, “Ah, my princess,” arms wide open to greet you with a hug. He’s the first to pull away, hands still resting on your shoulders as he takes a good look at you. “You grow up so fast!” he says jokingly with a wide smile plastered on his face as he pinches your cheeks. 

There’s something off though, something suspicious behind that painstakingly dubious grin on his face. Smiling wasn’t something your father was fond of doing especially in public - too deep into portraying the character of the dark and brooding Dracula depicted in human children’s stories. Plus, your fangs sometimes get in the way, so smiling isn’t really a preferable option. 

Before you get the chance to ask about his sudden visit, another staff member approaches you, another folder in hand. Your father shoos you away before you object, dragged away by your duties for the millionth time tonight. 

“What is it now?” you ask the skeleton beside you, every sound of his movement resembling that of a marimba. “Your presence is being requested by Ms. Catherine at her party, Countess.” 

You’d almost forgotten your cousin Catherine had rented out the hotel’s rooftop to celebrate her engagement to her long-time boyfriend Jericho. You’ve already congratulated and apologized to her plenty of times prior to this day, already knowing that you won't be able to celebrate it properly because of the events being held at the hotel. With the hectic schedule you were running on, you just realized that you hadn't visited her all day. 

It had been a very long week, and you were tired to the bone, but the guilt of not being physically present at her party was gnawing at you endlessly. Almost reaching the point that you forgot your father was just in front of you mere seconds ago - and now he’s disappeared, again. 

Heeding to your cousin’s call, you decide to leave the area, leaving a puff of smoke behind you. You reappear the same way at the rooftop, just beside Catherine herself, who looked like she was hiding from someone, crouched behind a table. 

“Who are you guys hiding f-” Unable to finish your sentence with Cat shushing you, you crane your neck up a little, glancing at the others who were in similar dispositions. Weren’t they all too old to do this in an engagement party? Or was this a new trend Cat wanted to start? 

Your heart clenches nevertheless at the hilarious attempt to hide from whoever or whatever it is they were hiding from. It was quite the scene: an orange tentacle slithering its way to steal a cupcake by the buffet table, Barry Blob thinks he can camouflage as jelly, and Bigfoot was… well, let’s just say he was never meant for a game of hide and seek. The only monster one would have expected to be good at this was your uncle Griffin who was born invisible but he was always the one first spotted because he thinks wearing disguises like a hot pink wig (his choice of the day) would make him unnoticeable. 

And yet this is what they supposedly call ‘hiding’. 

“Is this the new norm during engagement parties? Hiding from the responsibilities of married life I see,” you suppress a snicker with your palm, and when Cat looks back at you to shut you up, she screams with such fright, alarming everybody on the rooftop. 

“Surprise!” Mandy Mummy, one of your closest friends, appears from the other side of the table.  

“You guys were meant to surprise me?” Your brows furrow. “Are you all sure? What’s the occasion?” 

Frankie Frankenstein emerges from behind the bar, throwing a suspicious look at you. “You’re kidding me, right?”  

You look at the others in the hopes of finding a hint behind what was really going on, but Cat beats you to it, extending her arms out as she beckons you closer, “I don’t know how a monster could possibly forget the day she was born, but we’re here now so, happy birthday my dearest forgetful cousin!” Cat gives you an extra slap on your ass in greeting. 

Realization finally hits you, reminiscing the short moments throughout the day that had hinted on your birthday. You did see a few of your staff nudge each other in your presence, but you only thought it was because they were hesitant to say something when they knew that it had been a hectic week so far, tight schedules and all. 

The rest of the crowd clear out, revealing themselves from their hiding places. Your father appears from one side, carrying a dangerously huge three-tiered cake. 

Mandy approaches first, narrowing her eyes at you, “Wait, you seriously forgot your own birthday?” Cat answers in your stead, “She did,” while she points a finger to her temple, reiterating her capability of subjective precognition to the rest of the group. 

“Uncle Drac! Can you remind me again how are we related?” 

“I wanted to ask the same thing!” Your father exclaims, grabbing a glass of champagne from a gargoyle waiter and trailing off to greet his friends. 

“Cat, you know I’ve been busy for so long, I don’t exactly have a birthday countdown every year to remind me of something that is...not really that significant.” 

“______, I know we’re practically dead, but that doesn’t mean you have to live like one.” 

“Why don’t you try living in my shoes then, hm?” 

“I would, if they were Valentinos.” Unable to rack your brain for a smarter response, you roll your eyes at her instead. The guests start singing happy birthday in chorus as they near you. The night continues on a light note, people wishing you another year of happiness and prosperity, likewise congratulating your cousin for her engagement and her soon wedding. 

As the conversation eventually moves on to wedding preparations, Frankie spills on the details of Cat’s plans for her bachelorette party. You weren’t so keen with the idea - not when this was the first time it had been offered by the people closest to you. 

Bachelorette parties were primarily a human thing - some sort of commemoration of debauchery as you had understood from Google when you had looked it up a few years ago. These kinds of celebrations weren’t exactly included in your traditions but judging by the photos you’ve seen online; you’re sort of glad this wasn’t classified as the norm in your world yet. 

Cocktail parties with half-naked bartenders? Masseurs drenched in vaseline? Topless butlers serving dinner? What was with having male nudity as the baseline for such an occasion? 

You didn’t think this was going to be a trend in the monster-verse anyways, as your kind comes in different shapes and sizes and these parties just might end up with one seeing a lot more than necessary. 

When you try to confirm the plans with Catherine, she just shrugs at you three, telling you all that it was going to be a surprise. You, Mandy, and Frankie groan in unison at her reply. 

“Impatient much? You still have the whole day tomorrow to pack your things.” 

“We’re going on a trip?! And you’re telling me about this just now? A day before our leave?!” 

“Yeap. How long does it take you to pack your clothes?” 

“Do you not realize that I have a whole ass hotel to manage? I mean it’s not like I don’t want to go but surely, all my responsibilities cannot be handed over in a span of twenty-four hours? Plus, our week-long six hundred and sixty-sixth anniversary special isn’t over yet! You could have at least told me two weeks ahead?”

Someone places a hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see your own father smiling at you. “You’re just like your mother, darling. Stop worrying so much!” 

“Exactly why I told him instead,” Cat raises her eyebrows at you as she points to your father. “Catherine’s right. So, I’ll be taking care of the hotel while you girls have some girly time by yourselves,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Are you sure you can handle Hotel Tersnoa?” Your father almost spits out the champagne as he looks at you incredulously. “Excuse me? Need I remind you who handed the hotel over to you?” 

“I know, it’s just… a lot has changed. We’ve expanded the hotel, there’s now a theme park, and a new island has just been opened… it can be a lot…” 

Your father dismisses your worries with a wave and a kiss on your forehead. “Nothing I’ve never done before. You’ll be back before you know it. What could possibly go wrong?” 

Right. Your father’s words echo in your head. 

What could possibly go wrong? 

“A cruise?!” 

You’d gone through hours of travel, your ass was hurting from the prolonged sitting, and Catherine had not once told you where you were headed, mouth zipped shut. And yet here you were, mouth agape in shock – the betrayal, the treachery, the deception.

Docked in front of you is a humongous white ship, honking its siren with all its might. You’re struggling with attempting to even comprehend the entire situation. Your cousin did not just drag you out of your hotel to another… hotel...on water. 

“Welcome to the Bermuda Triangle, where you’ll embark on a monster cruise of a lifetime,” announces a fish-man or man-fish creature clad in a sailorman’s outfit (well he was definitely a fish, but had the limbs of man). All your expectations for this trip had just been obliterated by a singular monotonous, unidentifiable being. 

“Psst. Why is your face like that? I heard the fare was astronomical!” Frankie whispers when Mandy squishes between you two, trying to get a brochure from a stall nearby.

Everybody knew Cat was more than willing to spend her money on anything she has set her eyes on (just like that exclusive collection of Hermes bags she has back home) and actively looks for other ways to spend her money (such is a costly cruise) so this trip didn’t surprise you as much as it did Frankie. You’re wondering though, how she found out about this cruise and why she intends to celebrate her bachelorette’s party here. 

If a disinterested man-fish was tasked to welcome its guests, well, you can tell there’s really nothing much to look forward to here. You just hope this cruise will give her money’s worth, or rather, at least half of it. 

“Hey! This looks amazing!” Mandy exclaims, flipping the colorful brochure over a couple times. “There’s even a waterpark, multiple dining options, bowling alleys, a theater…” 

“Sounds like everything you can do…at the hotel!” You can’t help the rising pitch of your voice by the end of your reply while your friends laugh at your indignance. Mandy and Frankie ignore your protests, while Cat whispers near you, “Wait ‘til you see the itinerary!” 

“Not you too?! Seriously though, I don’t get why you’ve chosen to do it here, instead of our own hotel…” you pout, head hung low. 

Cat pulls you aside, letting the other passengers move forward, “Listen to me darling, alright? All these months, years, all you did was work and work and work again, we barely had any time to hang out together just like the old times, so I figured a break from all your customer service shenanigans and let yourself be served for once. Take a vacation from running everyone else’s vacation. Is that alright with you?” 

Giving her an apologetic smile, you pull her into your arms for a tight hug. She wasn’t lying though when she said you had barely spent time with each other. Back when your father was still running the hotel, you’ve spent your early years always practically attached at the hip: from crying over your first boyfriends, through that emo high school phase, to pursuing several degrees, and to spontaneous trips halfway across the world when you were bored. 

“Plus, Jer and I intend to start a family as soon as we get married, so these girl trips won’t come by often all the more.” 

“You know I love you to the moon and back right? And will you stop making me feel like an aunt when I’m not yet one?! But, to be honest with you, that would be really cute though! Little you and little Jerichos running around… but you know, if Jer will come close to laying a finger on you, just say the word…” 

“We zinged, darling. You have nothing to worry about. Maybe you’ll find your zing on the cruise too.”

You roll your eyes at her fondly. As if. 

It doesn’t change the fact that you still have second thoughts about this trip. Begrudgingly, you climb up the stairs, sulking as you watch your friends and the rest of the group of the monsters huddle in excitement as they ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ at the cruise’s features.

When you spot a few of Hotel Tersnoa’s beloved patrons in the group that arrived with you, your heart sinks a little, refusing to believe a fancy cruise could ever question their loyalty to the greatest monster hotel known to your kind. Guess nothing ever truly lasts, even with the undead.

You had initially expected the ship’s interiors with no sort of identity at all, resembling an array of badly mixed cocktails, individually appealing yet when put together looks like a lousy rainbow (you swear it’s not the spiteful hotelier inside you that’s speaking). Much to your chagrin though, the imaginary cruise you had inside your head was definitely not the case at all.

The rest of the monsters behind you continue to marvel at the cruise ship. And, quite frankly, you too are quite impressed yourself, as much as you hate to admit it. You’d never though such modern, minimalistic styling could fit a hotel on water but this cruise just seems to carry it pretty well.

The moment you set foot on the carpeted floors of the cruise, you’re awed at what seems like a celebration of the beauty of mother nature with nearly all furnishings made out of organic materials and colors exhibiting earthly hues. To add to the experience, preserved palm tress line the corridors and chandeliers made of LED lights litter the varnished high ceilings. It was like land on water – if that made any sense at all.

Man-fish continues to lead your group through the hallways, until you arrive at the main deck, just as picturesque as shown on the brochure Mandy held onto earlier. You were starting to realize why your cousin was into this whole cruise.

The creature half your height goes on to share a little history on the cruise ship – known as the Legacy. Similar to your hotel, cruising lines was also a family business for decades but it was only this year that the owners decided to extend the lines from taking human passengers to making a whole ship exclusively for monsters.

As this was the vessel’s maiden voyage and with your group being the first batch of guests to ever board the ship, a welcoming event was to happen tomorrow night, and the creature mentioned something about having the official invites placed in your rooms along with your luggage.

Right on cue, the moment you lean on the railing to overlook the deck below, a marching band appears from the side – a whole parade of man-fishes clad in band uniforms and red and gold. There’s even a few of them who start doing acrobatics, the sight of which has Frankie giggling to herself as she comes up with the term ‘fishcrobats’. She claims she’s the punniest monster in the universe.

The lights on the deck dim suddenly, and bright bursts of color start shooting up from a deck above you, fireworks lighting up the evening sky. It was a breathtaking display, with the others spiraling upwards while the rest exploded into a thousand more sparks. The display continues for a few more minutes, until the band makes a drumroll and a spotlight moves across the length of the ship and points at someone across the deck.

“Woah…” Mandy gapes, words drawling out to a low whistle. “Who. Is. That.”

A man in an all-white dress uniform emerges from the upper deck. “Ahoy there! Welcome aboard! Bienvenido, Zdravstvuyte, Guten Tag, Bonjour! I am V, captain of the Legacy…” Applause follows as the fireworks die down completely. “And yes, I’m human, but don’t hold that against me.” The captain’s eyes scan the crowd until they meet yours. He winks.

As soon as the blonde-haired captain looks away, Frankie squeals in your ear. “He totally just winked at you!”

“No, he didn’t,” you retort, never having been so grateful for not having a pulse, else Frankie would have your heart beating out of your chest.

“Yes, he did.”

The two of you were about to start bickering about the wink when the captain continues, “I’m very excited to have each and every one of you onboard for our very first monster cruise!” As unusually graceful as nobody else could probably do, he slides down the railing of the stairs as if he were just gliding through thin air.

“You’ll enjoy gourmet dining, thrilling adventures, and non-stop entertainment – all on our way to our final destination: the lost city that isn’t lost anymore – Atlantis!”

Your jaw drops – not because Atlantis had ‘apparently’ been found, in fact, it was never lost in the first place; they just cut ties with surface dwellers because of damage brought about by water pollution. In your defense, it was the humans were uncontrollable with their despicable habits but you can’t really put the blame on the Atlantians. It was their home after all, and they only wanted to protect it. Just as you would with Tersnoa.

What truly surprised you though, was how he managed to snag a partnership with them when you had vying for one since you took over the hotel. Well, your business proposition was never officially offered on the table, but still! Perhaps, if you made an entrance as grand as him, you would have succeeded though.

It was getting crowded where you stood, and Mandy tugs at your hand, pulling you down to the lower deck. Begrudgingly, you go down the stairs, sulking as you watch your friends and the other monsters huddle in excitement. You even recognize a few of the other passengers who are likewise patrons of Tersnoa. Or at least they were, now. Guess nothing truly ever lasts, even with the undead.

He reaches the lower deck in no time, greeting the other monsters with a wave and a smile. When he nears and you get a better look at him, you feel your entire body shudder – in a strangely delightful way, wave after wave of this electric feeling reaching until the very tip of your toes.

It feels as if every vein inside of you is pulsating, despite being practically dead. You felt…alive. A million thoughts rush through your head, with your gut feeling telling you something that is almost unmistakable. You have never, ever felt this way before but your intuition tells you this is the exact embodiment of the stories you’ve heard so many times in your lifetime. Could it be? Was it even possible?

The sensation was inexplicable, foreign too, yet it felt right. Like… like it was meant to be, perfectly destined in the most peculiar of ways. Digging through your purse, you retrieve the small mirror inside made specifically for vampires. Taking a quick glance of your reflection on the glass, you take notice of your irises that have turned purple, almost lavender in color. Gulping, you return the mirror into your purse at once, confirming your suspicion.

You zinged.

With the captain.

Who was human.

Frankie nudges your shoulder when she notices you stiffening beside her. “Is everything okay?” You feel your friend’s blue, stitched hand land on your shoulder. Giving Frankie a short reassuring nod in response, she shrugs it off, not before hearing her mumble about noticing something different with your eyes. Thankfully, the manifestation of the zing comes in different ways with every monster specie, so Frankie wouldn’t get the hint that you’re in deep, deep trouble.

Years of listening to stories of your culture and traditions rush to your head, all with the same words resonating throughout your brain. ‘It can make you cry; it can make you high; but, one thing a zing never does is lie – for it stays with you until you die.’

Shaking your head, you attempt to rid your thoughts of this man. He shouldn’t be your zing; he can’t be your zing. This was a huge mistake. The must’ve made a mistake. How could the very kind of people who murdered your own would also be the one designated for you – a soulmate, in human’s terms. You don’t even know how you're supposed to react to such a thing. Was it a curse? A blessing perhaps?

You continue to watch the man in silence. Sweet baby Jesus, the visuals this man was bestowed with. Maybe the man up there was real after all, and he had spent all seven days to craft this ethereal being. Even if he was meters away, his mere presence already makes you weak in the knees – considering the fact that you really haven’t officially met the person.

With his almost unrealistic face, you’re left wondering if your bodily reactions were caused by your zing or the captain really holds such prowess over creatures of all kinds. You wonder if it’ll be easy to forget your painful past and move forward? Trust the zing like all monsters do?

After promulgating the greatness of the monster population and how big of an honor it is for him to hold the first ever monster cruise, he also apologizes afterwards on behalf of his fellow humans for the mistreatment of your kind, drawing nearer and nearer to your group, eyes trained on you when he’s not busy welcoming the other monsters.

In an attempt to keep yourself from trembling, you clasp your hands together. Momentarily taking his eyes off you as he greets another guest, Mandy leans toward you and nudges your rib, “That, my friend, is what you call: a hottie. Go get him, tiger!” Blinking your eyes, you recollect yourself, giving her a dubious look, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Honey, anyone with a single working eye can confirm to themselves that the captain has been hand-sculpted by the gods themselves. And don’t tell me you don’t notice the bed eyes he’s giving you the whole time,” Mandy chortles bandaged shoulders bumping against your own as she does. “Deny it all you want now, darling, but I have this gut feeling that the love boat will be sailing very soon.”

Just then, as if on cue, the captain makes a beeline for your group, a small sultry smile playing on his lips. You feel like your insides wanted to crumble into sand and disperse into thin air. God, the things this man does to you…Rather, the things you want him to do to you. Now, your own brain betrays you with inappropriate thoughts and he’s currently in front of you looking like a whole course meal. He has such pretty eyes too and oh- this is bad. This is very bad.

“Ah, if it isn’t the one and only Countess Dracula,” he says, voice low as his eyes bore themselves into your soul (as if you still had one). “May I?” The captain takes your hand in his and gingerly places a kiss on the back of your palm. You’re rendered speechless by the small gesture, while the rest of your friends gape at the captain like he had suddenly grown three more heads.

“I’m known as V around here,” he keeps your hand in his, and you’re instantly all too conscious of everything – what if your hand was too cold for him? Or too clammy perhaps? All your worries are diminished when he doesn’t seem to take notice of any of your present worries, tugging you closer to him as he inches towards your face, warm breath fanning against your cheek, “but you can call me Taehyung.”

He pulls back just as slowly, sending you and your friends an innocent boxy smile. “Guess I’ll be seeing you lot around! Please enjoy the cruise. And remember, if there’s anything you need, feel free to approach me anytime.”

Walking away to attend to his captain-y duties, the three other girls gather around the moment he’s out of sight. “What. Was. That.” Catherine questions, punctuating each word with numerous blinks.

“I’ve already sent a prayer to Anubis to take care of our dear ______’s departed soul,” chimes Mandy, waving a hand in front of you in the hopes of taking you out of your shock.

“Whoosh! There goes _______’s undies!” Frankie adds as she throws her head back in laughter. Your cousin tsks at them to get them to stop teasing you, but with the smirk she’s sporting on her face, you’re certain she’s going to bring this up sooner or later.

With a deep sigh, you hang your head low. This was going to be a long vacation.

Right after Taehyung stages the entrance of the century and greets the cruise’s guests, he discreetly makes his way to a less crowded part of the ship and walks briskly along a dimly lit hallway. Pushing forward an inconspicuous panel on the wall leading to a secret passage, Taehyung silently makes his way done to the lower level of the ship.

The stateroom is almost pitch black as he enters; Taehyung feels his way through the room, solely relying on muscle memory to head to the bedroom. When he turns on the light to check on his great-grandfather, the old man squints, croaking out Taehyung’s name. Rushing to the elder’s side, the dutiful great-grandson pours water on the glass by the bedside table.

Taehyung perches himself on the edge of the bed, taking his great-grandfather’s frail hands in his own. “Dracula – is he on board?” the old man rasps, voice almost whispery. “No,” the younger man shakes his head in denial, “but his daughter is.”

The former winces a little when he tries to shift in his bed, “Even better. Tear him apart by slowly taking his loved ones away from him one by one. Let him feel the pain we had to go through.”

The blonde-haired captain sighs when his great-grandfather coughs again, wheezing as he does. “Promise me you’ll avenge our family, Taehyung. I’m not sure if I’m going to make it any longer, but if I won’t…” he coughs, the strain on his voice evident. “Grandpa, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” The old man waves his hand, dismissing Taehyung, “Promise me…for your mother, for your father, and the rest of our family. You and I are the only ones left, my dearest great-grandson. We have no one else to rely on but each other.” The old man’s hand clasp weakly against Taehyung’s.

He tucks his great-grandfather in his bed, and waits patiently for the old man to fall asleep before leaving the room.

You and the girls roam around the deck for a little longer, before deciding to call it a night and head to your rooms. It’s quite the walk all the way there, but as you get farther from the hustle and bustle of the crowd and onto a more secluded part of the vessel, not to mention the rooms are getting father apart from each other, you suppose Cat had picked the best suites available on the cruise. Typical.

Not putting much thought into it with exhaustion taking over your body, you tiredly take a half body bath and head to bed.

Rising a few hours later, you plan on checking out your cousin’s accommodation choices. Just as man-fish had mentioned the night before, there was in fact an invitation placed on top of your bedside table, the gold linings too attractive to miss out on. How could you have possibly missed it though, is all up to your fatigue last night, far too tired to even scan the room.

Heading to the kitchen first to make yourself a cup of coffee, you’re greeted by the beautiful glow of the sunrise as you exit your bedroom. You’re momentarily stunned by the beauty of it, as it was your first after a long time to see the sun, or at least a quarter of it. Contrary to popular belief, sunlight doesn’t incinerate vampires, nor does it make you vanish into thin air. In fact, the closest stories had gotten to your biological truths was that sunlight made you weaker – sort of, because the only explanation for it was that you get really bad sunburn under its rays. But that’s nothing a small bottle of Witch Republic’s Suncream Lotion SPF 5000 can’t fix.

Equipped with a 60-inch smart television mounted on a wall, an equally large painting was hung across the room, serving itself as the background for the sitting area.

The fittings are generously provided for, if the room truly claims it to be a suite for couples: a settee is placed in front of the television for viewing purposes, and another is placed vertically across for lounging and enjoying the view of the balcony.

The balcony – was magnificent in all senses of the word. From a picture on the tiny ‘Legacy’ booklet you grabbed from the table, there really wasn’t much to a panoramic view of the sea but as you pass through the wide windows, the beautiful orange glow from the dawn adds a lovely burst of color in the predominantly monochrome furnishings of the room.

You inhale deeply, breathing in the fresh sea air. You spend a few more moments there, leaning over the balcony until Frankie ruins your moment from a couple of meters away, calling you loud enough for the rest of the ship and the Atlantic Ocean to hear. She drawls your name out, screaming her excitement over your rooms. “I haven’t slept like this since I got my arm re-stitched!” You laugh at her before waving and returning to the sitting room.

A part of you was taking mental notes – possible additions and improvements to your hotel, yet the other half of you wants to allow yourself to enjoy small pleasures like these. Maybe Cat was right all along, that you needed a break from running the hotel and truly relax for a while. With the size of this suite though, you can’t help but wonder if Cat got you all the couple suites solely for your enjoyment or hers.

You decide to take your mug of coffee with you to the balcony and breathe more of the satisfying sea air until the sun rises in its entirety and you retreat back to your room, wanting to sleep in the warm duvet of your bed once more. Maybe this vacation won’t be that bad after all.

Shopping with Catherine was never an easy task. If you could say so yourself, shopping with your cousin was a whole workout on its own.

It’s been three hours since she’s dragged you, Mandy, and Frankie out of your rooms and offered you a shopping spree and free lunch. Who was one to deny such graces? Even when all three of you knew you all would end up following your cousin wherever she went until you’d all complain about how she has to take too long when she always ends up buying everything she sees anyways.

As you stare at your seated self by the full-length mirror, you start to have second thoughts about discontinuing that beginner’s program subscription in yoga before you let Catherine drag you out of the comfort of your room. Sighing in defeat, Frankie turns to you with a similar expression on her face.

Starving, the three of you leave Cat momentarily to look for something to eat, and at the sight of a frozen yogurt stall across the hallway from where you’re seated by the Chanel windows, you and the rest of the girls immediately saunter towards the quaint stall.

While you wait for the girl to finish up your orders, your eyes are busy wandering all over the place in an attempt to count how many shops and boutiques they managed to allocate inside the cruise ship. Guess your hotelier side is already one with your true self.

As you watch a loud group of male monsters exit the arcade nearby, you catch sight of someone awfully familiar: the last face you’d want to see when you’re stuck inside a cruise ship for a few weeks.

Your eyes follow the group, wanting to make sure your eyes are not playing tricks on you. Like a hawk, you watch the group closely – one man in particular, yet he won't seem to look in your direction. You wanted to forget all about it and pretend you didn’t see anything, but you figure this is going to cause you a number of sleepless nights if you don’t. Quickly, you resort to a plan that will have to cost you more energy than just observing, but you were determined to make sure that it was really him.

Focusing your vision on a nearby potted plant, you make the clay vessel move an inch as you try to catch his attention. The first try doesn’t work and neither does the second. Hell bent on your resolution, the third time works the charm (obviously with a more significant amount of distance the plant has moved).

Your suspicions are confirmed – it’s truly him.

Just like that, all sorts of emotions course through you and you feel the corners of your eyes starting to well with tears. He laughs at something one of his companions say, and you feel your heart clench as you look at the same smile you fell for years ago.

It’s takes you a while before you process somebody has been calling you name several times, then you see Mandy waving her hand in front of you. “You okay there? What happened?”

Etching an ingenuine smile on your face, you turn to face her as she hands you the dessert, “Nothing…just thought I saw someone familiar…”

“Mhmm,” Frankie hums, scooping a large portion of yogurt into her mouth, “as long as it’s not you-know-who, then it’s irrelevant,”

“Actually, I think it is him.”

Frankie chokes on the sliced strawberry topping she just ate. “What?!” Mandy places a hand on your shoulder, an apologetic look on her face. “Don’t tell me that fucker is also here?!” Shushing her quickly, you reach out to her to tug at her arm to keep her quiet.

“What fucker are you talking about?” Catherine questions, approaching the three of you with two extra paper bags in her hand. Frankie keeps her mouth shut, thankfully while Mandy comes in to the rescue. “Frankie was just talking about how fucking tasty this froyo is. In fact, I think so too – would you like to try some?” The girl offers her cup, eventually feeding Cat with a spoonful of fruity toppings.

The subject is quickly diverted and as your cousin rummages through her bag to look for the cruise’s official pamphlet, both Frankie and Mandy give you a knowing look.

“Lunch anyone?” You propose to the other three, already wishing you’d soon be forgetting about even seeing your ex-fiancée earlier. 

You’d gotten back to your room around half past five, nearly collapsing to the floor after hours and hours of shopping with your cousin. The girls had agreed to use your room to prepare for the party later (one discussion you don’t remember agreeing to) and had gone around the sitting area, placing their bags done and going through their purchases.

You, on the other hand, had gone straight to the kitchen to look for something to drink. Besides, you just know they’re going to ask for something too later on, so you just grab a few bottles of water for the girls. As you rested against the cool fridge while opening a bottle of your own, you spot a punnet of strawberries sitting on top of a counter.

“Did any one of you bring strawberries here before we left?”

When they chorused their replies of denial, you check the strawberries warily, lifting them off the marble top. You hear something slide down when you open the container. A card came in with the strawberries.

Returning to the living room with strawberries in one hand and the card in the other, Frankie stands from the settee and snatches the card away from you. She waves the small piece of paper in the air, claiming it was a love letter. “Dear _______, I really think you’ve got a wonderful smile, but it’d be better if it was the only thing you’ll be wearing tonight!” she says, pretending to read the note.

“What?! You’ve already made a move without telling us about it? Lemme see!” Mandy exclaims, running after your stitched friend.

“Oh!” Frankie says, pointing to the sky, “Looks like we might be expecting a few inches tonight, hmm?” she adds, snickering as she pokes the inside of her cheek with her tongue repeatedly, and rather inappropriately.

“Y’all disgusting really. ‘M going to shower.”

“Make sure you don’t have too much fun with the showerhead!”

“Fuck you Mandy!”

“I would if you were my type!”

Catherine waits until she hears the water running before turning to her two friends left at the sitting area. “I’m worried.”

“About?”

“My cousin.” The eldest of the girls says, tapping her nails against the couch – a nervous habit. Frankie sets the card back down and nests herself on the carpet just across Cat. “What is there to worry about?”

“This thing between my cousin and the captain?” Carding her fingers through her hair, she closes her eyes before continuing, “Does the fact that he’s human not bother you…at all?”

“The dude’s harmless! And he better think it through when he tries to do something – he’s literally in a ship full of monsters. Do something dumb, he can get his head bitten off in no less than two seconds.”

Catherine is not convinced.

“Plus, I’m sure it’s just a one-time fling – surely, ______’s smart enough to know that. I just firmly believe that one must get laid regularly because penetrative sex is medicinal. And who knows? There might be cobwebs down there already!” Frankie adds.

Cat flings a brochure at Frankie before scrolling through her phone’s gallery then stopping at a portrait of you and her. “I’m just concerned about _____’s wellbeing. This is the most time we’ve spent together for the past two years, and I’m not even sure if she’s fully recovered from what she’d been through with you-know-who.”

“Even worse, what if she falls for the dude? Or she zinged? Or they both zinged?!”

“Hey, hey…” Mandy scoots over to Cat’s side and wraps an arm across her shoulder, “you’re overthinking now babe, and! This is your bachelorette party, stop worrying about stuff. _____ is a strong, independent woman. If she can handle the best hotel in monster history, then handling a man will be too easy.”

“Come out already!” Mandy whines impatiently from outside, knocking impatiently on your bathroom door. You smooth a few creases on your dress before you open the door to reveal your outfit. Shock was a heavy understatement. Cat’s usually beautiful features twist into one of distaste, Mandy pretends to gag at the sight, and Frankie avoids your gaze as she purses her lips.

You can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes your throat when they look at you up then down, scrutinizing your fashion choices.

“What. The hell. Is that?!”

“Why are you too covered up?”

Their hostilities continue as you give them a twirl, genuinely confused with their reactions when there’s absolutely nothing wrong with choosing a long-sleeved rayon blouse with ruffles in the front and a green pleated skirt.

“You didn’t tell me you’re meant to apply for the queen’s secretary?” Frankie questions, rummaging through your luggage.

“You mean Queen Elizabeth I?” Mandy adds, snickering along with the rest of the girls.

“Hey! G4 says she was pretty! And educated for her time too!” you cry in protest.

“Same with you darling. But it’s a party we’re attending and not a royal appointment, so will you do me a favor and wear this instead?”

Your mouth falls agape in shock.

“What?! This dress is… is barely covering anything!” You look closely at the satin blood-red piece of clothing as Catherine hands it to you. Needless to say, just looking at it was a cultural reset.

“Glad to know you’re unaware of that point.” Mandy butts in, “you’ll be happy to know that this dress will get you a man in no time either way.”

“Either way?” Frankie questions before leaving your room to looks for heels to go with your dress.

“Yeap,” the mummy replies, touching up her make-up, “Either you get a man who will cover you up or you’ll find one who will gladly take it off for you later tonight

Catherine coughs, “The captain,” winking at you while she pushes you towards the bathroom, “Chop chop now dear! We still have a party to attend to tonight!”

The party is already in full swing by the time the four of you arrive. The crisp, chilly air hits your face as you get to the main deck, and as you wrap your arms around yourself, you know you're already regretting having worn Catherine’s dress. Arms bare, half of your back out in the open, and a thigh-high slit? Really? A towel could’ve afforded you more modesty than this dress.

Mandy immediately heads to bar, leaving you all to ‘pick your poison for tonight’. Pursing your lips at your mummified friend, you trail after your cousin as she looks for a table to settle yourselves in. You scan the crowd, watching the other monsters move to beat of the music, and also, just in case someone you don’t want to see decides to show up again out of nowhere.

Mandy finds you shortly afterwards with a waiter trailing behind her, carrying a tray of ambiguous looking chalices. Oh boy.

This night was headed straight to hell.

Nearly an hour later, you practically waddle back to your table, breathless and throat parched as the desert. Catherine clings onto you like her Hermes Himalaya Birkin, just as exhausted as you were. Why do you always seem to forget that Mandy dragging your asses to the dance floor has never been the smartest choice?

The moment you get back to your table, you reach for the bronze goblet and down the rest of your drink. The distinctive burn has you keening, tightening your fingers around its stem. Beside you, Catherine coughs after she takes a sip of hers – “What the fuck is in this drink?? Methane?!”

“Throat…on fire…I feel like a fucking dragon,” you attest, voice raspy.

“That, my dear girlfriends, has been mixed by yours truly,” Mandy announces with a proud smile on her face. “I call it the Devil’s Piss.”

You shake your head at her, rubbing at your temples. Starting to feel the sweat break at your hairline, you want nothing more than to return to your suite and sleep the night away. Closing your eyes, you draw a calm scene inside your head: watching the sun set by your balcony as you sip on your hot chocolate –

Your dreams of orange skies and the soft breeze are cut short when you feel a tap on your shoulder. “Countess, the captain requests your presence on the bridge.” Your eyes follow the direction of where he was pointing and see a pair of eyes staring back at you.

Perhaps sleep could stay second on your list tonight.

Cat wiggles her eyebrows suggestively as you bow your head in embarrassment, your cheeks flushing when the rest of the girls whistle and howl as the man-fish stoically escorts you to the bridge. Once you arrive at the top of the stairs, the man adjusts your grip on his elbow as he gently takes your hand and stretches it forward for you to continue on by yourself. “The captain will be waiting inside, Countess” He bows curtly, and your left on your own to walk towards the bridge.

“Countess.” There’s the low timbre of his voice again, sending shivers down your spine effortlessly as you close the door behind you. He doesn’t speak after that, just taking in what you’re wearing tonight, subconsciously biting on his bottom lip as he takes in the outfit your friends have chosen for you.

Every step you take is wobbly, like your legs have turned into goo. The chilly breeze up here is likewise not helping your skin already prickled with goosebumps.

“_______,” Taehyung grabs your hand and gently places a kiss on the back of your palm. Another strike of electricity shoots up your spine at the small gesture. Goodness, what the hell was going on with you?

“Y-you don’t have to do this e-every time we meet.” Inwardly cringing at your shaky voice, you look away and exhale deeply in an attempt to calm your nerves.

It doesn’t help.

Especially not when the captain is less than an arm-length away, and being able to see him this close is doing dangerous things to you. “This is the first time I’ve been on a ship’s bridge,” you comment lamely, keeping the conversation on a sane note. The thirsty ass hoe inside you doesn’t seem to approve of the idea though, unfortunately.

“Really now? How is your first time on the bridge then?”

“It’s…different.”

“Different? How so?”

“Different from trying to run a hotel I guess, which was all I was doing for the past few years…It’s an unlikely comparison, I know, but being here…it’s like you get to oversee everything from the bridge, which I never get when I’m back home, like…you know you’re in control?” You were merely blabbering at this point, but then again, your brain loses control of your bodily functions when you're in close proximity with this man.

“You like being in control then?”

The tiny creaking sound coming from the floor tells you he’s taken a step closer to you, and the warmth coming from him is driving you insane. Damn this bloody dress of Catherine. You’re at a loss for words, neurons short-circuiting at both his question and how it’s equally chilly and hot at the same time in this small space.

It’s too much for you to handle, too much that you can't seem to find the appropriate words to voice out a reply, instead, you just turn around to face him. A gasp escapes your lips when you accidentally bump into his chest when you do so.

“Oh! Crap! I-I’m sorry…” You apologize meekly, fiddling with your hands and refusing to meet his eyes at all costs. The captain places your chin between his fingers and lifts your face for him to look at. He doesn’t say a word either, instead, just leans down and captures your lips in a feverish kiss.

Surprised – was an understatement. You hadn’t really expected him to call you over to the bridge and the next thing you knew he’s already kissing you. He immediately pulls away when you don’t reciprocate, apologizing profusely and mumbling about misplaced affections.

“No!” You exclaim, causing the captain to jump a little. You gather your courage and rub at your temples. “I mean…Captain V, your affections have not been misplaced, it’s just this…monster thing that has me acting like this the whole time, and I really have zero control over it and…”

You don’t get to finish your sentence as you feel his warm, moist lips on yours again. His strawberry-tasting lips glide over yours smoothly that you find yourself leaning towards him as you melt into the kiss. You’re first to pull away this time, breathless. “Forgive me, Countess…I’ve been wanting to do that since I first laid eyes on you on this ship,” he says, cupping your face as he rests his forehead against yours. “So beautiful,” Taehyung whispers against the shell of your ear and trails a finger from your cheek and eventually down to your collarbones as he ogles the cleavage Cat’s dress had generously given you tonight.

“Taehyung.” He places a lingering kiss on your shoulder. “Call me Taehyung, please.” He smooths his hand over your hips, tightening his grip as he pulls you closer and kisses you once more. You feel something hard against your stomach – oh. Your mouth parts when he starts to grind, slowly and devilishly against you and he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

His gaze darkens when he sees the expanse of skin the slit of your dress reveals as you shift your legs, thigh now out in the open. Attaching his lips to yours again, Taehyung distracts you from the way his slender fingers dance their way up dangerously near your core.

Your head bows in embarrassment when you remember Mandy checking if you’d worn the right underwear earlier, ‘If they’re not lace, they have to go.’ So when she busted inside the bathroom as you were changing into Cat’s clothes earlier and saw your favorite cotton panties (with an embroidered flower on the front), she quickly rips the material in distaste, strongly suggesting that commando is the way to go. It won't be long until Taehyung discovers –

“No panties huh?” Taehyung observes, voice low and deep. “Yes,” you reply breathily, closing your eyes as you ignore how you're throbbing all over in such a short period of time. You try to regain your wits back, your first zing too overwhelming that everything seems like a haze.

With a new, albeit questionable, surge of courage, you move your hand to palm him through his pants. When Taehyung bares his neck to you to elicit a groan, your head subconsciously dips towards the spot where you feel his pulse the strongest. In an instant, your primal instincts begin to take over you, baring your fangs and grazing them dangerously against his skin.

Holy fuck.

This man was going to be the cause of your death.

It’s been a while since you’ve been in close proximity with a human, and being this close to the captain has stirred up something inside of you that you never knew still existed.

Back in the days when humans had mingled freely with your kind, witches had placed suppressants in the Tersnoan atmosphere so that a monster’s primal instincts won't ever be able to take over your diplomatic selves.

Now that you were much older with fully developed senses, being this close to a human with no suppressants whatsoever had inevitably awakened your inborn vampiric tendencies.

Needless to say, your generation of vampires had gone ‘vegetarian’ in a sense. Your lifestyle no longer consisted of hunting down people for food, but you opted for a healthier alternative and a more convenient source of food: coconut juice. Besides, human blood never really came in highly recommended by the older generations, claiming it tasted like loneliness and despair.

What they failed to warn you of, however, was how intense the urge was once you were only a hair-breadth away from a human being who is very much alive. The temptation was getting stronger by the second, and the pulse coming from Taehyung’s jugular vein was ringing loudly in your ears.

Both the desires of hunt and lust were slowly taking over you, your judgment, and your irises, and your lips quake ever so gently at the excitement coursing through your veins. As you feel your irises change its color from their natural ones, to purple then to gold afterwards, the surprise in Taehyung’s eyes has gotten prominent, yet, with astounding self-control, he manages to keep the rest of his body calm and collected.

He gulps at the small smirk that plays on your lips, “To answer your question, I like being in control,” you say lowly, grazing the tip of your nail against his jawline, “but only when the need arises so.”

For a moment, you sense his fright with your golden eyes and fangs on display, but you feel it dissipate quickly when you bunch his shirt in your fists and pull him closer to you. Taehyung then takes this as a cue to continue his torment of his featherlight touches, causing you to lean against the wheel as your head falls backward at the sensation.

Brazenly, he hooks a hand under your thigh and wraps your leg around his hip, allowing himself to grind harder against you, the friction of his dress pants against your bare heat sending you to a state of near delirium. The moment is cut short however as you both hear footsteps approaching the bridge. The captain puts your leg down as abruptly as he hooked his arm underneath it earlier.

As you wait for the two man-fish creatures to pass by the wheelhouse, you and the captain keep a modest gap between each other, letting the staff move across the bridge and until they take their positions by the front portion of the deck. Just as if the captain wasn’t groping you merely seconds ago.

The moment they’re out of sight, Taehyung closes the distance between the both of you, resting his weight on you as he presses you further onto the wheel of the ship. Subconsciously, you bite your lip as you feel his boner practically begging for your attention.

His actions are hastier this time around, and quite frankly, you're glad he has managed to equal the same level of urgency you had. You don’t know how long you’ll be able to hold onto your sanity with the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. Else, you’d be taking the matter in your own hands.

Every contact of Taehyung’s skin with yours has you skin ablaze, and you’re unsure if it’s due to the (partly) shameful fact that you haven’t been this intimate with someone for the past few years that you're this responsive. He’s fondling your breasts with one hand, unabashedly tweaking and playing with your nipples. The other hand is busy squeezing your thighs, fingers dancing lightly across the exposed skin of your leg.

Your breath hitches as he unexpectedly cups your bare mound, digits swiping against your folds. Body quaking at the feeling, your body leans forward, but Taehyung has other plans, tugging you back harshly to his chest. “You think you can stay still for me sweetheart? You wouldn’t want my staff to think we’re christening the bridge, do you?”

Maybe, just maybe, the thought didn’t sound so bad?

“Oh?” Taehyung hisses when he feels your quick intake of breath at the thought. He finds your clit seconds later, rubbing the nub languidly, “you seem to like the idea, hmm?”

“Taehyung, please,” you beseech, leaning towards his touch and grinding your hips against his palm in desperation. You’re uncertain if this was an effect still caused by the zing but at this point, you just wanted a release from his relentless teasing and you’re more than willing to work for it if you have to.

The captain revels in your responsiveness and as a reward, he complies with your request, quickening his pace and toying your clit with more vigor than ever. Your hands, previously just as busy groping Taehyung, now shoots out to grip at the helm, your high approaching rapidly. He inserts a long, dexterous digit to accompany his other hand, helping you reach your climax faster. A second finger has you reeling, gripping the helm even tighter than before, knuckles turning white at the sheer strength. One kiss on your neck is all it takes, orgasming so hard that Taehyung has to hold you still lest you lose your balance.

You're still panting a minute later, having turned around and resting your hands on Taehyung’s chest for support. You both stay like that for a moment in each other’s arms, until you’re brought back to reality by the captain’s boner brushing against your tummy. “Can I?” you ask as you look up to him, thumbing the waistband of his dress pants.

“_______, darling, as much as I’d want to you right here, there’s too many of my staff roaming around the bridge for the night. And if these creatures walking about isn’t bothersome enough, it’s the fact that fish don’t blink either…so there’s that…” Taehyung states before placing a kiss on your shoulder. “If you desire so, I’d gladly continue this in my room…” the captain offers, looking at you expectantly as another pair of the fish men round the deck.

“I think we should go with that.”

He nods briefly, placing a wet kiss on your temple before taking your hand in his. Giddy as a teenager at the sight of her crush, you let him lead the way to his stateroom, unable to hide the shy smile on your lips. Once he leaves the wheelhouse to one of his first mates for the night, he squeezes your hand and continues on, palm contrastingly warm against yours as you walk to his room together.

“Did you enjoy the strawberries I had sent you earlier this evening?”

“Definitely. They’re one of the sweetest bunches I’ve tried in my life! Thanks for them by the way.”

“You did? They’re handpicked from our very own greenhouse on the ship!” Taehyung looks back at you with the brightest smile, eyes crinkling with the purest delight. Your heart crumples at the sight. How could the zing have possibly chosen this man for you – or worse, how are you supposed to deal with this type of duality?

One moment he’s brazenly fingering you inside the wheelhouse with blinkless staff roaming about and the next he’s talking about growing strawberries and how farming has been therapeutic for him. How is one man so devilish and wholesome at the same time?

Just like that, conversation flowed natural between the two of you: the similarities of having to run a hotel (as well as a heated debate on whether or not a hotel on land or on water is easier to manage), hobbies you enjoy on a spiritual level, and a few bits and pieces of him as Kim Taehyung and not the captain of The Legacy.

You’d just learned he doesn’t drink coffee, nor does he drink alcohol; he plays the saxophone and claims he’s pretty learned with the instrument; and that he loves taking photographs. In addition, he’d also told you about how he was born and raised in Korea hence the faint accent, but he’d grown up moving from place to place with his great-grandfather due to their family business, and that’s how their voyages helped him practice his English and even pick up a few foreign languages.

Your getting-to-know each other session is brought to a pause when the blonde-haired captain stops in front of a door in a dimly lit corridor. Quietly, he fishes for something inside his pockets, takes out his keycard and taps it against the door lock. Taking a peek from outside, you wait for him as he turns the lights on before following him inside.

Mouth agape as you enter, your eyes wander around his stateroom, marveling at the sheer grandeur of the captain’s living space. Just when you thought Catherine had given you and your friends the luxury of staying in a suite large enough to house a family of five, the captain’s stateroom on the other hand could easily pass for at least ten people.

Taehyung’s suite exactly looks like it came from a magazine spread, akin to a million-dollar apartment…at a high-rise residential tower…located in the middle of the busiest city in the world.

The captain lets you roam around his stateroom, a small smile playing on his lips as you gape over every detail in the room. It was modern interior design taking to a whole new level.

Monochromatic in a way, yet for some reason, he had it strategically designed to make it look more dynamic, alive somehow. You were no expert in the field of interior design, but with your modest experience in running a hotel (from choosing what type of cotton will be best for the beddings to organizing parties with more than a hundred participants), you could easily tell every nook and cranny of this room was heavily planned out.

Pointing at the stairs, you wordlessly ask for his permission if you could go up and check out the upper level. Taehyung doesn’t follow right after, momentarily heading to his kitchen. Significantly smaller than the lower floor, the second level houses his bedroom, with a heap of curtains serving as a divider and cover from those staying below.

His bedroom speaks more of him than any other part of the stateroom. Just as he mentioned earlier, there’s an open saxophone case on one corner, next to another black violin case. You also take notice of the makeshift tie hanger he’d made using the coat stand.

What truly catches your eyes though, is the array of photographs hung on the walls. It’s a mosaic of some sort, with photos spread from a corner then occupying half of the adjacent walls. Some are framed, some are printed on canvas, and a number are on photo paper and pasted on the beige wall. They’re caught on film, you reckon, with the distinct grainy resolution common amongst the photos.

Swiping your finger against the wooden frames of the pictures he’d hung, you study each photo thoroughly, trying to figure out the story behind each picture. There’s three more situated on his bedside table, Picking up the one with Taehyung smiling widely beside a boat’s mast.

“Ah, my first sail,” Taehyung says, taking a step near you. The tiny hairs on your nape stand at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. All of a sudden, you realize he’s standing too close – too close for you to remain sane.

You keep the framed photo in your hands, yet your thoughts have ultimately flown far away from whatever story was behind the picture; like how you hear his heart beat a little faster.

“Enough about me, countess,” the captain whispers as he places a hand over yours and guides yours back down to the bedside table. For a second there, you’d forgotten

For a second there, you’d almost forgotten he literally had the same fingers inside you just a few moments ago and that you’re now reminded of the main and sole purpose why you’re here in his bedroom.

“What about you?” Taehyung sets the strawberries down next to the photograph, then tucks a few strands of stray hair behind your ear. Each teasing touch is driving you closer to madness, like every move of his is calculated as if he knows he has this effect on you.

Lamely, you echo his words, “What about me?”

“Do you still want to look at more of my photographs or shall we continue what we started earlier?” It’s so awfully quiet inside the room that you basically hear yourself gulp at his proposal.

Weren’t your bodily reactions enough to serve as an answer?

You wanted to act less naïve (and appear a whole less desperate) that you’d imagined giving him a proper answer in your head, but here you were, stiff as a gargoyle statue, cowering beneath the warmth radiating off Taehyung.

Thoughts too haywire, you're unable to rack your brain for an appropriate reply, so you return the question to him: one with a double purpose – for him to ponder on and for you to recollect yourself. “What do you want?” Slowly, you turn to face him, bracing yourself for the hormonal uproar you are to experience.

The captain pouts cutely while in thought before darting his tongue out to lick at his lips. Taehyung gently brushes your hair over your shoulder, fingers subsequently tracing the outline of your collarbone. “I want,” he starts off, toying with the strap of your dress and wrapping it around his finger, “to take this off.”

Letting him slide the straps off your shoulders, you inhale deeply, anticipation doubling by the second. With your shoulders tense, the straps fall only until your elbows. Taehyung notices your hesitation and tenderly takes your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, tilting your head up so he could face you properly.

“Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Feeling sorry for him having to deal with your worries, you cup his beautiful face in your hands, “I want to. I really do – it’s just…it’s been a while.”

You're grateful when he leans toward your touch, sending a soft smile your way. “Of course, darling, we’ll take it slow.” Relaxing your shoulders, the thin straps of your dress fall down the length of your arm with the rest of the fabric following shortly after.

Core throbbing immensely with want, you take initiative this time, claiming his mouth with a newfound sense of courage and urgency. Your knees threaten to give in when he matches the intensity of your kiss. With haste, you thumb at the zipper of his pants, causing him to trip on his own feet and fall forward.

The blonde-haired man brings you down to bed with him, stretching his arm out just in time to break his fall, making sure he’s not resting too much of his weight on you. “What happened to taking it slow?”

Taehyung is just as breathless when he helps you with your predicament with his pants. “Fuck it, there’s plenty of time for that later but I need you,” you pant, unable and unwilling to keep your hands to yourself – brushing against his clothed erection, sliding them against his defined chest, wrapping your hands by his neck to pull him closer to you…

“I need you now, inside me, please Tae…”

He withdraws from your body and kneels by the edge of the bed. Legs already shamefully spread and ready, Taehyung rummages through the drawers of his bedside table, looking for something. At the mention of condoms under his breath, you wave at him, trying to catch his attention.

He turns to you, eyebrows raised. “No need. Human sperm can’t get us pregnant anyways. Are you clean?”

“Got checked three weeks ago, that good with you?”

You nod your head, beckoning him over. Taehyung wastes no time, taking his boxers off to free his dick from the confines of his underwear. He crawls over to you and places a kiss on each of your thighs before taking his cock and sliding it against your wet folds.

He uses yours and his essences as lubricant, jerking himself off first before pushing the red tip of his shaft slowly. In consideration of your own pleasure, he doesn’t rush his entrance, just pushing slowly then drawing it back to prep you properly.

Taehyung continues with that, until your hand shoots out to grab him by his wrist, giving him a tug to let him know you’re ready. Silently, he nods, this time pushing his cock inside until he’s fully seated inside your warm walls. “So t-tight.” Taehyung shivers when you experimentally clench around him.

“Babe,” the captain breathes out while heat rises to your face at the term of endearment. “Please don’t do that again, fuck, I might just cum early if… if…” Taehyung falls silent again, groaning as you clench one more time, “you're just one naughty girl aren’t you?”

When you shrug your shoulders in reply, it’s like something inside Taehyung snaps because he gives you a playful smirk before thrusting harshly. You mewl at the feeling, fingers tugging at his hair in encouragement.

“Y-you're so big,” you cry out as he ruts his hips, the tip of his cock deliciously brushing against your sweet spot with every thrust. “Fuck,” Taehyung hisses, continuing the fluid motion of his hips, “your pussy was made just to take me then.”

He goes almost animalistic, thrusting even deeper, stronger as he chases his high. “Think you can cum with me sweetheart?” Taehyung queries, pushing his hair back when he feels the edges of his fringe tickle your cheeks.

Taehyung deftly finds your clit while he’d continued his torment with his hips, a single moan coming from your mouth is all he needs before proceeding with abusing your nether nub. It doesn’t take you both much after that, both your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, one after the other.

A few more hours into the evening and you find yourselves still tangled in each other’s bodies, worshipping each and every inch of skin as you get overcome by lust over and over again.

Taehyung collapses to your side after what seems like… in fact, you’ve actually lost count of how many times you’ve climaxed. Panting, he looks at you with a smile reaching his eyes, “That was…” He’s at a loss for words but when he hears laughter bubble out of you at his cuteness, he joins in.

The laughter dies down, yet you’re still staring at each other – no words needed to explain what had just transpired between the both of you tonight. You stay still and contented, basking in the euphoric bliss. He says he can't stay awake any longer, bidding you a good night’s sleep and sweet dreams.

You manage to stay awake though, on the contrary, swearing to yourself you’d just seen his eyes flash lavender before falling into a deep slumber.

© joontier 2020

Send me your thoughts? x

[jamie-leah]

War of Wolves (22) Finale

Season 1

Episode 22 - Everything Has Changed

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have been on the streets for the past two years, ever since your accident that left you with the ability to tell if someone is lying. You work as an informant for the white wolf and his mob but you had never met him…until you overhear a phone call that leads you to saving his life. Now he wants you to work for him. Its an offer you couldn’t refuse…right?

Word Count: 1634

Warnings: Cliffhanger, swearing

A/N: Its the end Lovelies, I can't believe the journey its been with these characters! If you don't like cliffhangers I would advise not to read this part and take the previous episode as the last. I want to thank you all for the love and enthusiasm for this series and for loving them as much as me.

<---Previous Episode

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The weeks of recovery were long but you knew you were in the best hands. Bucky put work on the back foot to look after you despite your protests.

You had been having a hard time sleeping though, ever since waking up and finding Bucky in the hall. Dreams of the past and a future that sometimes scares you.

It got so bad that you went to med bay to talk to the Doc about it, to see if he could give you anything. He was reluctant and I was too. He suggested talking about it, professionally. But no matter who you chose, you didn’t think they would quite understand the type of life you lead. You could never be totally honest with them and that would defeat the point.

You didn’t acknowledge how bad or strange it all was until you woke up with a start. The room was bright, the one you shared with Bucky. He was nowhere to be seen but a note was left on his pillow

“Come to the reception room when you’re awake”.

Which is odd, we only usually use that room for certain Client’s. Either way, you were distracted. You had a dream last night that felt more than a dream and it was starting to become troublesome.

The dream itself was nothing bad, in fact it was happy, lovely. Bucky had thrown you a surprise party, balloons and friends and family celebrating your recovery. It was lovely, one of the best dreams you had had for a long time, but it still left you with a sense that something was off.

You get dressed and make your way to the reception room lost in thought, that’s why when you open the door and hear “SURPIRSE!” you almost scream the place down.

Hand on chest, you take in the sight of balloons, banners and food. Everyone you love a few others were smiling broadly at you, Steve, Sam, Peggy and the kids, Darren even made an appearance. But your eyes were on Bucky and his wolfish grin.

“Did you do this?”, you ask.

Bucky shrugs casually, “maybe”.

Bucky walks across the room to you, holding you close and leans you down in front of everyone to kiss you deeply. Love and passion sweeping across the both of you, the sound of howls, whoops and cheering the only thing keeping you from tearing into each other.

Bucky pulls back with a broad smile before lifting you back up and turning to the crowd, “everyone, as you know we’ve been through a lot over the last year. We’ve lost good people, and parts of ourselves while trying to keep the organisation going and keeping each other safe. But we’ve also found new love, and welcomed another member into our family, Tommy”, Bucky gestures to the sleeping baby in Peggy’s arms.

Everyone cheers at the shout out before Bucky continues, “I wanted to celebrate Y/N’s recovery. I wanted to celebrate the people that made it possible for her to be here today. I also wanted to give everyone a reprieve. Things will only be more difficult for a while. We have Isaac and Harry to track down and we have other enemies to prove we’re still the strongest enterprise out there. They will be coming for us, but I wanted to take this moment to say we’ll be ready. I also wanted to take this moment to thank you all, for standing by me through it all.”

Bucky looks down at you with something fierce in his eyes, a love and devotion that you’ve never seen in another human being before, “to us!”, he shouts as he raises a glass to the room.

You wake up with a start, panting from feeling yourself trying to wake up. The dream was so vivid, it felt real…

You look to the pillow next to you and you see the note from your dream, the exact placing, the exact wording from Bucky.

You don’t even bother changing out of your pyjamas as you rush from the room. You make your way to the reception room as fast as possible, almost bashing into people trying to get to your one goal.

You mumble apologies until you make it to the doors of the reception room holding your breath. You hesitate with your hands on the knobs, you didn’t want this to be true, but hiding from it wouldn’t make it not true either.

You swallow despite your dry mouth and swing the doors open to “SURPRISE!”…

All through the party you convince yourself that it’s a coincidence. You don’t tell anyone, not even Bucky what you’re thinking but its all you can focus on until Peggy catches you on your own.

“Is everything okay?”, she asks, concern etched into her friendly face.

You nod, “yes”, and distract her by fussing with Tommy for a while.

By the end of the day, as night creeps in you feel exhausted by going through all the possibilities in your head.

Bucky takes you away into a private corner with another grin on his face just like he did with the surprise and for a moment you forget your troubles as you smirk back, “what is it Buck?”, you ask.

He grins wider, “I have another surprise for you.”

You shake your head with a small smile, “I don’t think I can handle any more surprises right now Bucky.”

He strokes your cheek for a few moments before saying, “I came close to losing you and having you here, happy and healthy is something I wanted to celebrate with everyone but I also wanted to celebrate with just us…so I booked us a night away in a hotel underwater.”

Your grin splits into a dazzling smile as you jump on Bucky murmuring your gratitude and love.

You arrived at the underwater hotel the next day. Checking in with Lisa at the counter as Bucky finishes checking in he asks her, “the extras I asked for…?”.

Lisa didn’t look up from the computer in front of her as she answers, “they should be in your room.”

We make our way to the room, our overnight bags in hand. Bucky steps into the room first looking around at everything.

But you barely pay any attention as you look out into the water and all the fish, your fingers are touching the glass when Bucky comes out of the bathroom, “none of the extras are in here”, he says with annoyance lacing his tone.

He starts towards the door before turning back to you, “did you detect the lie at all?”.

You shrug, “she probably believed it, so go easy on her Buck”.

You hear the door close behind you and you pray for a normal night of sleep or perhaps you could convince Bucky not to sleep at all. You stand there thinking about all the ways you and Bucky could ruin the room when you finally hear the door open.

You turn as you say, “hey Buck, I was thinking-“

Bucky is looking at you with shock and confusion on his face and that horrible feeling you had the night of the crash comes back in the pit of your stomach.

He doesn’t say anything for the longest time as he stares at you. Finally, you couldn’t stand anymore silence as you say, “what?! What is it Bucky? What’s happened?!”.

He clears his throat, “she knew the stuff wasn’t in the room.”

You pause before laughing at his statement, “Jesus Buck, I thought something was seriously wrong, like danger level wrong. You need to stop giving me heart attacks.”

But Bucky never starts laughing and so the smile slowly fades from your face as you say, “okay…so what if the extras aren’t in the room, we can ask for them or you can get a partial refund.”

He shakes his head as he finally steps in the room and closes the door behind him, “you’re missing the point Doll, she lied.”

You scrunch your face up, “yeah Buck, people lie-“

You stop the sentence dead in its tracks as you look at Bucky in alarm, finally realising what he’s getting at.

You have no words. Bucky is the one to fill the silence, “I’ve noticed it a few times over the last few days. The fact that you haven’t clocked some lies and have become more shocked at some of the things that happen around our home. I thought it was just because so much was going on. Your recovery, us never getting moments alone these days, but you never picked up the lie today, you even said so yourself.”

You shake your head, “wait a minute, we’re jumping to conclusions here, this is a new place and I wasn’t paying attention-“

Bucky interrupts you, “my favourite flavour of ice cream is mint, I’m wearing boxers under my pants, my mothers name was Sarah.”

He says all the lies he told you when you first met in quick succession and you never detect a single one as a lie even though you know they are.

Your stomach lurches and you feel your hands shake by your sides, you look up at Bucky as tears well in your eyes, “I’ve lost it Buck, I’ve lost my ability to detect lies.”

You sink to your knees before Bucky can reach you. He joins you on the floor as he wraps you in his arms trying to protect you from the truth that has become a truth in a long line of truths in a never ending nightmare.

You try to will this not to be true as you question your worth not only as a member of Bucky’s organisation but also as his partner and your ability to keep him safe. And you know, everything has changed.

WoW Taglist: @a-really-bi-girl @crazyblonde124 @summerwelsh @scuzmunkie @loving-life-my-way @pequenaguaxinim @paranoid-borderline-insane @lilsonbucky @somanyfandomsblog @broco8 @inquisitor-selvala @mad-red @k-n-e @rinkashirikitateku @duhh-danielly @boundtomyfate @kalesrebellion @booktease21 @whatinthyworld @flyingbabyunicornnamedangel @asapkyndall @yaszx @amoredashley @aveatquevale- @putinovertime @melimelbean @valsworldofcreativity @lokilokilokilokilokilokilo-blog1 @vesper852 @littlenerdgirl16 @wiccanmetallicrose @aya-fay

I have an entire plan for Season 2 and written some too. If you want to see more of this please let me know. The more people wanting more the more likely it will happen. Taglist for all things Season 2 are OPEN <3

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 18/?

Word Count: 2.5k

Author's Note: Y/N - your name, A/N - any name (your best friend's name)

Warnings: Mentions of court, mentions of Jason's injuries, swearing, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Jason walked out in a few minutes, just in his boxers. She looked at him before letting out a slight laugh at the absurdity of it.

"Don't laugh, you're the one who tore my clothes."

She sighed, "And you're going to have to go home in torn boxers, Bruce is going to kill you."

"God, don't remind me," he said before sitting beside her.

She laughed, "You could just not go home?"

"I wish. But I have a life. You have a life."

"It's unfortunate, isn't it. Can't spend all day with you but you're all I want to do."

"Funny."

"Thank you, I really tried," she thought, "You remember how I seem to have a fascination with vigilantes?"

"Yes, why?"

"I remembered why. So, when I was in high school, graduating year, I had law class. I was bored, so I did law, don't question it," she laughed. "Anyway, in my law class, they split us into groups. Specifically, Pro-Justice-League-Association and Anti-Justice-League-Association."

"Pro and Anti?"

"Yeah, apparently it was relevant? I guess the JLA doesn't use conventional methods to get evidence? Don't care though. Anyway, I was on the side of Pro, obviously."

"Obviously."

"Wait I'm not done! By the end of the class, I had debated every member of the Anti team and converted them. It actually introduced me to the Robin-Forums, which is just smack dab full of conspiracies."

"Robin-Forums?"

"Oh my god? You don't know those? You're all over them. Some people are convinced you're Kid Flash, some are convinced you're Robin, it's crazy."

"That is crazy but seems funny. What about my family?"

"Someone in my class posted "Why Clark Kent is Batman: An Essay" which has like, 20k likes? It's very popular."

"Well, I swear he isn't Batman. He's just very fond of the night."

"That's what I said, but that man is convinced otherwise."

"You would know if any of us were vigilantes. We're not good at hiding secrets."

"I'm sure you have your secrets, I just find it funny people think you have time to be Kid Flash."

"People spend all their time worrying about me, when will it end?"

"Ha! That's fair. Tabloids running your name probably doesn't help the conspiracies."

"I remember one of my ex-friends from high school mentioned me being Kid Flash, I was so confused, I guess it makes sense now. I'm going to have to show everyone that. They'll get a kick out of it."

"I bet they would. I'm waiting for the day I'm on it as someone who's a hero. Hoping they say I'm Wonder Woman or something. I think it would be funny."

"You get Miss Martin because everyone thinks you're too beautiful to be human."

"Aw. That's so corny that I hate it! Well done."

"Thank you. I learned it from Dick."

"Of course you did."

"Where else would I learn it from?"

"If you're genuinely asking, the internet, probably."

"That's fair. That's completely fair. I think Dick learns a lot of his lines from the internet, honestly."

"Oh yeah, there's no way he comes up with everything on his own. No way."

"So, what other dumb stories do you have?"

"Well, I think my sister is either a vigilante or really, really, weird."

"You think your sister is a vigilante?"

"Okay so, she's a businesswoman. No big deal, right? Wrong. She's always out, more often than she has to be, she's always spending nights away from home."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Okay well Adrianna, Aria, whatever you want to call her, she's being suspicious."

"I'm sure you're looking too far into it."

---------------------------

The Night Jason Was Stabbed.

Aria clutched the scythe in her life hand. She had failed. She had worn her best dresses that she could hide beneath her capes, she had drugged him, she had stabbed him 6 bloody times, and he had still survived!

She was angry. She walked up to the Red Hood on his time off while he was catching a drink, looking stressed. She didn't care if he accepted her offer to go to her room, she just cared about that moment. The one where she could slip in the crushed-up pills and no one would stop her.

And she had done it. She waited until after he chugged the whole drink to strike. He was stumbling around, like an idiot. She hit his head with the back of her blade, knocking him to the ground where she proceeded to stab him 6 times in his right side.

She kissed his forehead before leaving, which required her to removed her mask a bit, saying "Goodnight, sweet Prince," before running into the darkness.

But the blue one, Nightwing. He got to the Red Hood before he could die. And she was pissed. All that hard work, just for him to not even die.

The scythe was still bloodied from the Red Hood. Her lips were still warm from his forehead. But now, he had possibly seen her face! Her plans were foiled every way when of her goblins came up to her.

"Ma'am, your weapon."

She passed it over without second thought. She wanted it rid of the blood of a living man, she wanted it soaked in the blood of a dead man.

Her plague doctor mask fell a bit as she began to tear up. She had failed. She had never failed at knocking "Heroes" down a peg.

Call it crazy, but she knew the fights between her and the Red Hood were far from over. She even felt as they'd grow closer.

As she looked at the walls covered in the photos of the vigilantes of the world, she knew this was only the first battle. The war was hers. They didn't know what was going to hit them.

But there was an issue. Her sister, Y/N had become close with one of the Waynes. She needed the Waynes to get to the "Heroes" which meant possibly hurting her sister.

----------------------------------

"I hope I'm looking too far into it."

She wasn't.

One night when they were both 17, it was just Aria and Y/N in the house when Y/N was awoken by a loud crash from the downstairs window.

She went to investigate, bat in hand, to find her sister, stumbling over the coffee table. Bleeding out and clutching her side from the blood. Stabbed.

Y/N took no hesitation to take care of Aria. Stitching her up like they had as kids when Y/N would sitch up Aria after shut cut herself on skates, or if Y/N ran straight into a car.

Those images still dance in Y/N's mind to this day. Something was up with the way that her sister had a mask, a long bird-Esque plague doctor mask. A cloak. Knives. Guns. A scythe.

The best outcome would be her sister was attacked while LARPing in the park. The worst? She was a villain. Midway? A hero of the night, a vigilante. Anything was better than a villain.

If only she knew the pain Aria had caused her until this point. The fact that Aria was the one who drugged and tried to kill Jason. The pieces of the story were unravelling in front of everyone's eyes, they just needed to connect them properly.

--------------------------------

Aria had a plan. Kidnap her sister and her lover's family. Get ransom. Get them hurting. Locate the "Heroes". The only issue was that Y/N would recognise the cloak, the mask. She knew the get-up.

Aria was not about to redesign her entire outfit for the sake of not alerting her sister. She figured it would be unlikely that Y/N would focus on the cloak when she's being used for ransom money.

Or at least she hoped. She wasn't certain her plan would even work. Breaking into the Wayne Manor, after one of the kids had been stabbed, in a mugging was going to be difficult.

They had employed security, something that was never common at the Wayne Manor before this moment. She was upset. If only her sister had met the Waynes before the stabbing.

Then she thought.

Red Hood is a Wayne?

It made sense, sure. They got stabbed at the same time. But was it reasonable? She didn't know. Why would an 18-20-year-old be a vigilante? He couldn't even legally drink?

She thought it didn't make sense. That the Red Hood was never, could never be the Wayne kid. But if he was, what could that mean?

She was certain he wasn't. But the thoughts swirled in her mind as if beckoning her to come to the conclusion.

She was crazy, she knew that. She was obviously crazy, she became the villain, the opposite of her twin in every way. She was insane. Arkham would like her. But there was something about the Red Hood being a Wayne that kept coming back to her. Haunting her like the night she was stabbed by Green Arrow back in Metropolis.

She was on their radar. They knew her. They would come to get the Waynes.

She knew the Justice League Association knew of her. But the people didn't. This stunt would make the people know of her.

The name Hour will ring through the streets of Gotham. The streets of Metropolis. Smallville. Anywhere she could get her hands on. She would begin her reign of terror.

No one could stop her now.

---------------------------------

Jason had left after Bruce had called him. She assumed he needed to work or one of his siblings did a dumbass move. It was upsetting that they couldn't spend every moment together, but she knew that it was par for the course with Jason.

She was bored. She didn't have a job, her parents paid her bills if she focused on school. But she wasn't something to do, a reason to be having down days. She knew school gave her this, but it wasn't like it was every damn day.

A job would be every damn day. Hopefully. A reason to do so much in her life.

She figured she could work at Wayne Enterprises. But she didn't want to be that girl. The one who's fucking the CEO and is subsequently untouchable. You can't befriend her and talk sit, she'll tattle.

She wanted to be a normal working person. A colleague, not a boss.

Wayne Enterprises was a last resort for her. If she couldn't get hired anywhere else, she'd go apply thee. You don't fuck company property, she thought.

But she also thought fucking Wanye Enterprises "Property" was fun. and no one was really going to stop her, not even Bruce. Even though Bruce tried to lecture her and Jason, there was only so much he'd do. Barbara and Dick both worked at Wayne Enterprises and hadn't been reprimanded for that.

And obviously, they were having sex. They had been together for a while, Jason said.

Which, obviously they were having sex if they were together for that long.

She scrolled a little while for jobs, marking down a few she'd look further into. Not really anything exciting, she was still young, 1st year in college, a freshman. Not many prestigious places would hire someone her age. Especially while they're still in school.

There were only unpaid intern jobs in her field. And she wasn't about to fuck with not getting paid, even if it was her line of schooling. She didn't think it was worth it to put all of your efforts into a job that you weren't getting paid for.

A lot of kids thought her way, including her sister. Both of them grew up thinking that getting paid for work was necessary, her parents had always told them that. Even if her parents had strict religious views, they would still back her up if someone wasn't paying her, even if they fell out.

She thought if Bruce felt the same, that kids should be paid for what they do. He figured he did since he employed all of his kids once they were old enough to work at Wayne Enterprises.

She noticed Lexcorp, who had recently put up a building in Gotham, was hiring. She thought it would be funny if she went to work for her boyfriend's dad's competitor. She was tempted.

Worst comes to worst, she'd be a Lexcorp employee.

She, of course, would have to dress up for these interviews, and she had the clothes to do so, but she didn't, per se, want to wear them.

She also didn't want to go outside when trials were still raging. So, she figured she'd call Christopher's parents about getting him a lawyer and then scroll the pages for shopping. His parents finally had the time to deal with their son, because Christopher didn't want to interrupt his parents with him being an idiot.

She dialled.

"Hello?" his mom asked.

"Hey, Laura. It's Y/N."

"Y/N! Sweetheart, we've been wondering about you ever since, you know."

"Yeah, yeah. We can talk about it later I swear. So, I already told you about what Christopher did, right?"

"You did."

"He needs a lawyer, the man is pressing charges."

"Well, that's stupid. He has no right."

"Apparently he does."

"We'll get Christopher a lawyer. But how are you, darling?"

"I'm okay. Could be a hell of a lot better. I have faith in the court system."

"We're all worried about you, kiddo. You've wrapped yourself up in a lot of a mess recently."

"I know. It's weird. But I swear I'm strong enough to pull through, you've known me for what, 13 years? Give or take? I know how to handle myself."

"That doesn't mean we can't worry."

"I know, new city, new people. I swear behind the scandals I'm in that I actually have friends."

"I assume we'll meet this Jason eventually?"

"Eventually. We need to find the time between court dates, work. Adulting."

"You don't have a job?"

"Jason does. And I'm thinking about getting one to pass the time."

"Working to pass the time is a new thing, fascinating, you kids are."

"Nothing can make sense of all these things I've done, I know."

"Those sound like song lyrics."

"Sometimes songs are the best way to get all your thoughts compiled into one place, you know. I starred as Katherine Howard, Laura. I know how to convey emotion through art."

"I know. That's still one of the performances Metropolis holds on to, you know."

"I wish they didn't. But it is what it is."

"It's a good performance, kiddo."

She laughed, "Anyway. You get onto that lawyer. Christopher needs it right now."

"I will. Be safe. We love you."

"I love you lot."

Click. She thought about Christopher, and the bullshit he went through to save her.

She brushed the thoughts off and pulled out her journal. Scribbling down her sister's bird mask. She couldn't get that off of her mind. She could have sworn her sister made the thing out of actual bone.

It was like she threw a steampunk aesthetic into a plague doctor. She was certain there was more to it that she didn't know.

Literally Aria LMFAO

[internalsealpanic]

Better Die Than Doubt

Summary:  You wince knowing he’s already noticed. You feel the tiniest bit more at ease as he approaches your booth but it didn’t stop your eyes from flickering and searching for something off in the environment. The creeping sense of being watched trails up your spine. You’re sure.

A/n: To no one’s shock, this entire fic was unplanned. I was possessed by the urge to make it (translation: I got the urge to write this and one of my enablers said do it).  This story should be treated more or less as a horror story. Nothing is being glorified here except how dorky Jason is. That being said,  PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS. This fic contains quite a few triggering things and I really don’t want you to be blindsided.  Also thanks to @knightfall05x for helping me write this whole thing. Thanks to @batarella (HOE) for action writing tips.

Warnings: graphic violence, stalking, emotional manipulation, unhealthy coping mechanisms, drugging, nongraphic description of rape, and rape aftermath 

masterlist

You press the heels of your palms into your eyes. You could practically feel the oncoming headache the way you could sense someone coming down the hall. This is what happens when you’re running on just 5 hours of restless sleep for the last few days. This headache was also not helped by the fact that this was your fifth coffee in the past 30 minutes. You probably should not be drinking this much caffeine this late but intelligent decisions weren’t exactly your strong suit this week. You rub the sides of your forehead feeling another wave of nausea. 

 You check the time again and groan.  It’s been one-and-a-half hours since your agreed upon time had lapsed and yet one Jason Peter Todd was nowhere to be seen. You curse, nerves edging, and mind fraying.  To be perfectly fair to him, he is a busy guy, vigilante, and all. You understood that fairly well- and this was sudden to say the least. You can’t really fault him for being a bit late but the long wait was ratcheting up your anxiety. Again, the coffee didn’t help but considering it was the only thing you could keep down since last night, you didn’t have much choice. 

 Last night. 

 Your stomach tumbled. You cup your hand over your mouth feeling your coffee traveling back up your esophagus. You let out a long exasperated breath, letting yourself sink into the booth. You look out the window, eyes flickering wildly searching for Jason. Your hands tighten around your mug. The feeling of being watched made you bristle. 

 Jason, well, Jason wasn’t hard to spot. The man was 6 feet 4 inches of pure muscle and leather. Having a handsome face and a ‘fuck you’ look in his eyes also helped.  In short, the man was hard to ignore. You wave weakly to him as he dismounts his bike, a gesture far too small for your usual bombastic self. Jason’s smarmy smile greets you as he returns the gesture with his gloved hand. The motion is slow and cautious, rickety in a way. You wince knowing he’s already noticed. You feel the tiniest bit more at ease as he approaches your booth but it didn’t stop your eyes from flickering and searching for something off in the environment. The creeping sense of being watched trails up your spine. You’re sure. 

 “Jesus, y/n, you look like Timbo” Jason chuckles sliding into the booth his green eyes shining with scrutiny. You look at him flatly not having enough energy to properly respond to his jab. He winces seeing your lack of reaction. “Rough night, huh?” He asks flagging down a waitress, who looked quite pleased to get away from her previous table.  

 You nod weakly, slowly as if the fact that it had been a rough couple of days had just sunk in. “Yeah,” you reply, your voice small and a little threadbare. You drum your fingers against your increasingly cold mug. The waitress sets a couple of warm mugs in front of you. Her soft smile makes you uneasy. You and Jason mutter a thanks as she tells you to wave her over if you need anything else. Her warm brown eyes boring into the stark purple bruise on your face. You shrink and smile sheepishly at her.

 “I’m fi-”

 “I am going to throw these sugar packets at you if you say you’re fine.”

 “Damn, ok, Mr.Kettle,” You laugh. His concern startles a genuine laugh out of you. You’re sincerely surprised how lively the sound that comes out of you is. “You know if you keep sounding like that, Jay, you’re gonna wreck the whole stone-cold badass thing you got going,”

 “Y/n..”

 You huff running your hand through your disheveled hair, trying in vain, to soothe your mind. What was the best way to put it? You swallowed, gathering your lapsing thoughts. “Sooo uh-” The collar of your shirt suddenly felt tight around your neck. “-I-” You breathe. “-I found around 4 or 5 of Blackmask’s boys and Deathstroke-No, I’m not shitting you- in my- my apartment for- well- the third time in the last two months, can I crash at your place? Just ‘til I find a new place. Oh and also how do I get rid of them?”

  He blinks as his brain takes its sweet fucking time digesting what you had just said.  He leans back groaning and running his hands over his face. He looks like he’d like to deck you if he wasn’t too busy being concerned for your welfare. You shrink again, feeling bad for springing it on him. The decision to leave out the gory details of your hectic week suddenly felt like the wisest choice but you had no doubt he’ll get it out of you at some point. 

 “I’ll skip the obvious ‘why did you wait three times before moving’ question because I feel like I’m probably going to get an aneurysm from your answer,”  Your reasoning wasn’t quite that stupid. You were mucking about Sionis’s operation. The fucker decided to branch out his little enterprise into your city and like hell, you were gonna leave well enough alone. After you had set fire to one of his warehouses, you thought that would explain the False Facers. But Deathstroke? Deathstroke was a mystery. You’ve also been mucking about his business but you two have always been civil if not friendly. Frenemies of sorts, you guessed. You’ve been encountering him a lot in the last few days. You had figured that Blackmask had hired him but considering he threw two men out of your apartment window last night, you’re not entirely sure.  You make an affronted noise that Jason elects to ignore. 

 “What did they do?”

 “Aside from necessitating a visit to IKEA?  Nothing.”

 “Did they take anything? Leave a message?”

 “Nope, nothing-” You furrow your brow trying to recall. You shake your head. “-They just made sure I knew they broke in.” You add, shrugging your shoulder. You wince at the movement. Your shoulder still aches from being hit with a bat. Jason’s shoulders shift, moving as if to reach out to you but stops himself. Instead, he continues with his line of questioning. “Sweetheart, there’s gotta be something missing.” 

 You frown, biting your cheek. Jason rests his chin on his hand, green eyes watching you and urging you to think back. It was either the weight of his gaze or the lack of sleep that was making it hard to recall. You close your eyes and catalog your belongings, analyzing the mental picture you have like a crime scene like how he taught you months ago, breaking it down into the smallest pieces of information and bringing it back into a bigger picture.  Still, nothing. Nothing of note was missing. You shake your head and shrug your uninjured shoulder. Jason glares at the immobile one. You shake your head silently telling him it wasn’t from last night which just made him clench his jaw. 

 “Evidence?”

 You shake your head.  He frowns baffled. 

 “Tech?”

 You shake your head again. 

 “Anything personal?” He asks jokingly. 

 “I-” A cold horror washes over you trailed by embarrassment. Your vibrator had been missing and so were a couple of your lingerie sets. You feel your stomach drop to the floor. “Oh god, Jay- I- Please, let me stay with you.” 

 “And have them steal my stuff?” He chuckles. 

 “Please, Jay, like you have anything worth stealing.” Jason frowns at you scrutinizing your face. You level him a glare but it was more in an effort to fight down a blush than anything venomous. Jason’s jaw unclenches and his face breaks into a shit-eating grin. “What color was it?”

 “Wha-”

 “Bzzzzzzzt ” 

 If you weren’t blushing before, you are now. Heat climbs up your spine. Your mouth felt dry. 

 “Well, what color was it, sweetheart?” Jason drawls, his voice dropping an octave. You shiver but bristle just as quickly. You bite your cheek and glare at him. “HA. HA. HA. Funny, Todd.”

 “Was it Red Hood Red?” Jason teases, winking and raising his cup of coffee to his lips. 

 “Nightwing blue” You deadpan. Jason coughed into his drink.  You preen with satisfaction. 

 “Does it make stupid puns while you go at it? ”

 “Yup,” You say, the ‘p’ popping. ��That’s part of the appeal.” You joke smiling into your mug.  Jason snorts. “How is that supposed to be sexy?”

 You shrug, a sharper less tired smile cutting across your features. “Dunno man. Nightwing is pretty sexy if you ask me.” You wink.  

 Jason makes a fake gagging noise. Well, it seems fake with how theatrical the gesture is but with bats? You never could tell. You roll your eyes and giggle.  Jason’s shoulders loosen at your bubble of laughter, his face slipping into one of his sheepish smiles. “In all seriousness, y/n, you can stay at my place.”

 You smile at him, your usual fluorescent smile. 

Click

 Click

 Click

 A man from across the street watches you intently through the lens of a camera. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Slade throws the photos across Roman’s desk, each glossy piece of paper containing a candid photo of you looking increasingly frayed and anxious.  

 Roman marvels at how your usually larger than life figure shrank into your puffy coat, how small and malleable and inexperienced you looked. He notes the panicked look in your eyes in every one of the photos and savors it. He couldn't wait to see it for himself. 

 In one photo, you're looking over your shoulder as you enter your office building. 

 In one, you’re tracing circles on a child’s hand with your thumb,  beaming brightly as you told some wild tale to distract the child. 

 In another, you're slumped in your desk chair as you think over a case looking absolutely exasperated but determined. 

 In yet another one, you're locking lips with a man, his hand trailing up your shirt. Roman made sure to give the man some swimming lessons a few weeks prior.  

 In the photo in Roman’s hand, you're at the emergency room looking like you haven't slept in 2 days. Your face was bruised and your clothes were torn in several places where Slade had managed to land a blow. Your delicate skin marred with cuts and trickling blood. Absolutely gorgeous.   

 He examines it closely. The photo was taken just a few hours ago. You look like you're going to cry but your shoulders and jaw are squared more frustrated than scared. There's a fire in your eyes that threatens to level the city. A thrill rides up his spine at the prospect of extinguishing it. 

 “This is why you wanted to throw my men out the window?”

 Slade hums. He shrugs and the edge of his lips curl into a smile. “It was the only way to convince the kid that we’re both after her-” His eye drifts to your face. Appraising but impassive. “The kid’s scared out of her mind and exhausted at this point.”

 Slade had a point. Roman had to give him that. It wouldn’t be obvious to the casual observer but it would be plain as day to anyone like Roman who had been studying you for a while. You weren’t quite as meticulous with your appearance as Roman thought you should be (He would work on that later) but the dishevelment in your appearance was obvious. The slight dip in your shoulders in place of the prim posture that you usually employed was a blatant indication of your weariness. And the falter in your smile, the flickering in your eyes, and the number of times you let yourself bite your cheek showed the cracks in your fearless image. 

 Who knew weeks upon weeks of chaos could weather Minos City’s own budding hero? 

 In the photo next to Roman’s hand, your laughing face is stark and lively against the drab atmosphere of the diner, bubbling laughter carving life into your exhausted features making you look more like the shining paragon your city has come to rely on. The man sitting in front of you is laughing too. The sharp edges of his grin softened by the fondness in his eyes. It was hard not to recognize him even with such a foreign expression plastered onto his face.  Roman crushes the photo in his hand. 

 “BUT NOW SHE’S WITH THAT SCUMBAG RED HOOD”

 “And she’s now with the Red Hood. In his secluded safe house. Weakened and far from help. Most likely thinking that she’s safe under his protection and blissfully unaware of the tracker I put in her arm.”

 “I see… It seems like you are worth the pay.”

 Slade made no effort in hiding his smug grin.  

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 “Jay, I really am sorry about this.” You mumble for what seemed like the fifth time in the past half hour. 

 “I sincerely hope you’re apologizing for the fact that you neglected to tell me you had bruised ribs before getting on my bike and not the fact that you’re staying with me because two crazy assholes decided your place needed remodeling.” Jason exasperates, pinching the bridge of his nose. You feel kind of annoyed by the gesture but he did have a point especially with your city’s less than smooth roads. You were also pretty banged up. As it turns out, facing off against a bunch of goons plus a master assassin is not good for your health. You swore viciously under your breath. Now, you weren’t expecting Deathstroke to go easy on you despite your rapport but the guy really didn’t have to throw you around like a rag doll. Even with your power to adjust the odds, it was a miracle that you escaped intact. 

 “Well, Mr.Pot, you ride your bike all the time even with broken ribs.” You bite back. Jason rolls his eyes unaffected by the distilled venom in your voice.

  “Well, one of us is a stone-cold badass- ”

 “And the other is a sasquatch with a stick up his ass.” You sneer snatching the beer bottle from Jason. Your tone was far too fond and playful to have any actual bite. Jason chuckles at you and ruffles your hair before snatching it back and handing you a bottle of water.

 You huff taking the bottle from him and following him to the couch. He sits down on the couch patting the seat beside him. You plopped on to the couch, placing your sock feet on his lap. He grabs your ankles and throws your feet back at you. You just as quickly throw them back on and this time you do it with an absolutely delighted smirk on your face. “Rude,” He mumbles but doesn’t attempt to extricate you again. 

 “So Deathstroke, huh?” Jason starts, side-eyeing you over his beer. You adjust yourself to sit up a little straighter.

 “You mean the asshat who broke my favorite lamp last night?”

 “Who the hell has a favorite lamp?”

 “Me! And get to your point.”

 “Have you two- yanno?” Jason jokes, his eyebrows wiggling and hands gesturing vaguely. Your eyes grow wide and heat creeps up your neck and face. You scowl at Jason throwing a pillow at his face for good measure. He catches it with ease much to your frustration giving you his trademark triumphant grin. You kick at him with no real force. 

 “NO! What kind of soap opera shit is that?” You giggle into your drink. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before. The guy was skilled and pretty witty.  You also had eyes and the man was handsome but something always felt strange about taking it further. You were civil but you kept your distance. 

 You pout at Jason again causing him to chuckle. “What? I’m just saying it’ll air out some tension~” He suggests winking. 

 “Oh my actual god, I hate you. I sincerely, truly hate you.” You laugh, kicking at his thigh. Jason makes an obviously fake hurt noise which draws out even more giggles out of you. Some tension in Jason’s shoulders releasing upon hearing the bubbly sounds. 

 “You speaking from experience, Jay?”

 Jason shakes his head and coughs. “Catwoman-” Cough. “Talia Al Ghul-” Cough. “Sorry, sweetheart, seems like I have a really bad cough this week.”  

 And that is how you spend the rest of the night questioning Bruce’s love life. 

“Food is in the fridge,” Jason says pointing to the said fridge which was sorely lacking magnets, sounding like a somewhat tired single parent. 

 “Do I look like I can keep anything down?”

 Jason snatches the water bottle you had abandoned on the side table next to the recliner. “With that big mouth of yours? Sure.” Jason teases lightly booping you on the nose with your water bottle. “Get some rest.”

 “Yes, mother” You sighed, burying yourself into the thick comforter he’d given you, crumpled water bottle in hand. He ruffles your hair. 

 “You know you’re safe here, right? ” The question startles you. You shift uncomfortably, pulling the comforter tightly around your shoulders. You shrug at him, not entirely certain how to answer. You know Jason’s safe house is, well, safe but you also thought your apartment was too. Your stomach twisted. 

 Jason squeezed your shoulder probably sensing the spiral of your thoughts. He smiles down at you, probably. It was hard to tell with the helmet.  

 “If you want, I can-”

 “No, Jay, I’ll be fine here. You can go on patrol. I’ll be fine. Promise.”

 The thing with Jason was that even when he was so big and bulky and hella intimidating, his empathy towards others had a bad habit of always shining through despite the layers of armor and sarcasm. You squeeze his hand, pressing little circles into his palm, and smile up at him. It was forced but it was the best you could do. Jason ruffles your hair again before letting go and making his way to the window. 

 “Get some sleep.”

 “Aye aye cap’n” You yawn settling into a slump on the couch. Jason can’t help but smile fondly at you.  You wave him a sleepy goodby before he sets off. 

You passed out on the couch, an old habit you never grew out of. You always slept on the couch when you felt uneasy. It may have been some sort of way to separate stress from your bedroom. It sure as shit wasn’t for safety reasons. Your equipment was dispersed throughout your apartment but your weapons were usually stowed away in your room. 

 You feel a hand running gently through your hair, smoothing away all your apprehension. 

 “Jay” You grouse, your hand halfheartedly swatting at the hand stroking your hair. You bury yourself further into the warmth of the comforter feeling the need to shrink away from the touch. You feel a soft prick on your neck.  

 Your eyes fly open.  

 Shit.

 The hand tangles in your hair. It throws you to the wall. The air is knocked out of your lungs. Your ribs scream. You scrabble to your feet. Your limbs fail you. They flail uselessly. Your breaths pick up. Your chest feels like it's caving. 

 "JAY" You shriek. “HELP.” A large hand grasps your throat. A rush of adrenaline kicks in. You thrash. You kick. Your hit lands. Another grasps your ankles. You scream. You swear viciously. Another grabs at your wrists. Something rough winds around your wrists and ankles. 

 The world tilts into an odd angle. Your head feels heavy so do your arms and your legs and everything. 

 "Jaaay" You slur, the air in your lungs becoming sluggish like everything else. "Jay" you sob again, knowing he wouldn't come. Not when he was so far away. 

 "Shut up you …..  bitch" You feel a swift kick to your stomach. It barely registers above the haze. 

 "Hey man-"

 "What? The …. man said we …… rough her up."

 "We can?"

 "Yeah, ……, said so"

 Your eyes blink, stupid, and uncomprehending.  Distantly, you hear yourself grunting and whimpering. You can feel their blows but your body is too far away, too inaccessible. It was strange to physically feel yourself drift away. 

.

.

.

 Roman traces the sun shaped scar radiating on your shoulder with a leather-clad hand. The one shot he’d managed to land on you the first time you’d stormed one of his warehouses. You were all cocksure and quick wit and boisterous laughter. You really had the devil’s own luck but it seems to have run out. Not that Roman’s got any complaints. Not when he’s got you laying at his feet,  tied up and vulnerable. 

 He crouches down, hand on his chin.  His eyes roam appreciatively over your sleeping form, appraising you like a premium cut of meat. You look pretty against the black silk sheets he’d chosen.  He sighs content with his prize. He traces the tip of his knife over your cheek, a dark purple bruise maring your features stark against the stainless surface of the blade. Slade really was quite careless when handling you. Not that Roman has any plans on being any gentler.  

 He lets his blade drift down, trailing down your neck down to the flimsy protection of your oversized shirt.  Your steady breaths falter. You keep your eyes shut trying to gather more information but it’s hard not to focus off the tip of the blade cold against your warm skin even as the blade cuts through the thin fabric of your shirt. A large hand grasps your face roughly. 

 “I know you're awake, baby-” You blanch still not opening your eyes. The grip on your jaw tightens. You grin like a madman. “It's rude to keep daddy waiting.” 

 “Sorry, Sionis, I was really hoping not to have to wake up  you’re ugly mug.” You sneer, voice thick and raspy with sleep but still full with your trademark confidence. Roman looks more amused than irritated.  Your body and mind are still at the cusp of sleep. You wriggle and almost cry out with joy when you feel them move. You mind the hand on your jaw and its tight grip. 

 “Baby, I won’t tell you a-” You spit in his face, cracking an eye open to see his reaction. A bloody grin spreads across your face like wildfire when you see the annoyance on his face. 

 “You’re going to regret that” He growls, wiping his face with a torn piece of your shirt. 

 “Oh please-” Something cracks across your jaw. 

 “The next time it’ll be the other end,” It takes a moment for your mind to catch on. You stare at the hilt of the blade for a moment before letting loose another smarmy grin. His violent reaction spurs you on. Yeah, you can definitely see why Jason thinks you’re going to age him twenty years. “Oh please, You like my face too much for that.”

 “You really wanna test that?”

 “Nope,” You say, spitting into his eye and landing a punch square in his face. You cackle like a madwoman when he goes down. You don’t bother hiding the delighted chirps that escape your chest. 

 Being petty, you give him a swift kick to the face before dashing towards the door.  You launch yourself, feeling like you can fly. The copper taste in your tongue almost feels sweet. 

 Your hand grasps the door when a hand tangles itself in your hair. 

 Roman throws you back onto the mattress, the springs digging into your back. You scratch and claw and thrash against the large hand wrapped around your throat. You snarl as Roman leans closer, his body pinning yours against the mattress, his weight immobilizing your fatigued limbs. A sweet-smelling cloth covers your mouth and nose, you gasp in surprise, inhaling the scent. Your mind is already sluggish by the time it catches on. 

 Your vision dims. 

 You feel hollowed out. 

 Your limbs fall away, arms drooping and pliant against the silk-covered mattress. The cloth feels too much against your skin. Vaguely, you feel horror prickling up your spine or maybe it was just the springs again. 

 Roman pulls away. You think you breathe a sigh of relief, feeling the weight of him lifted. He straddles your body, grinning down at you. Your mouth falls open to say something. You want to say that you curse him out or that you threaten him. The sound you make is small. Your tongue feels too heavy.  No, something is pressing it down, you think. 

 Above you, Roman is a towering colossus. You’re vaguely aware of the shifting of his hips. He removes his gloved hand from your mouth and caresses the side of your face with mock gentleness. His movements are sluggish and syrupy.  You make another noise when you realize to some degree of horror that isn’t. Your mind felt heavy and useless. 

 He snaps his fingers. The sound is dull like it's contending with water. A muffled set of steps approaches you. A man, you realize. You don't think you’ve noticed him before. His dark shape is messy and incomprehensible. A red dot flashes stark against his form. The mechanical sounds of a shutter drift in and out of your mind. You turn your head back to Roman at the sound of shifting fabric.

 Above you, Roman, already without his suit jacket, loosens his tie, eyes staring hungrily at you. The pit of your stomach feels painfully cold. You blink at him stupidly. He chuckles, grasping your chin to make sure you’re looking at him. You protest against his touch.

 “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be the star of our little show like the filthy attention whore you really are. ” He laughs. It rumbles like thunder in your ears. 

 The world falls away. 

Click

Click

Click

.

.

.

.

.

One 

 Two

 .

.

.

.

One

 You feel a prick on your neck. 

 Hot breaths fan against your face. 

 Your body is too warm. 

 You don’t want to know why. 

 Twenty-five, you continue counting. 

 You feel fabric shift against you. 

 Something sharp digs itself into your flesh.  

 One 

 Two

 Three

 .

.

.

 Three?

 Something’s crushing your windpipe.

 Your body is aching. You’re not entirely sure whether it’s from use or disuse and by who. 

 “Good girl”

 Thirty

 .

.

.

 Twelve

 There’s something scraping against your flesh. 

 Is it a knife?

 Hot pants fan against your skin. 

 Teeth 

 Four

.

.

.

.

Fifty-six

 “Boss, I-.... going a …. bit too far?”

 Smack!

 “Do …. You…. to think?” 

 Two sixty-eight

 A hand strikes you. You think your jaw is broken. It hurts but then again everything hurts. All you can do is take it and whimper. 

 Tears sting against your face.  

  “That’s right. Just like that. Like that, you little whore.” 

 Your body is warm again. 

 You still don’t want to know. 

.

.

.

.

Two

 Two

 Two?

 You’ve counted two before. 

 You blink. 

 The haze of your mind lifts. 

 The coldness of the room seeps in your bones. You’re bare. You take stock of yourself, running your hands over your skin. Everything is still there. 

 Everything and a few other things. You let disgust and shame roll over you. A sob tears its way out of your chest. Your breath picks up. You feel your mind slipping. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, calling your mind back and steadying yourself. 

 You take stock again. This time moving your limbs and jangling your joints.  They were weak but workable. You’re surprised to find yourself unbound aside from the collar around your neck. You suppose Roman’s confident in his drugs. How long have you been here? You press lightly against your neck, feeling the higher than normal pulsing of your artery. You shift yourself waking your legs up. 

 You stiffen, gooseflesh spreading over your skin as light filters into the room through the door. Your eyes snap shut, stinging from the sudden intrusion of light. The pulse beneath your fingers jackrabbits. You think you’ll keel over. 

 “Shhhhhh”

 All the strength in your veins floods out, leaving a feeling of cold horror in its place. You scream or you try.  Your body feels impossibly rigid. Roman stalks towards you, his footfalls slow and deliberate and too loud. Your heart jumps up to your throat with each step. You inch yourself away from him, drawing yourself up to make yourself feel bigger. He coos at how adorable you are, trying to look defiant. The mattress dips under his weight. Your mind begins to slip away from you again. The world falls away from you. You anchor it, digging your nails into your palms. He cups your face, thumb caressing your bottom lip. You glower at him and bite out something witty. He laughs amusement lighting up his features, the sound grates against your ears. 

 “Not gonna fight back?” He taunts, pressing his thumb down on your bottom lip. Your body recoils but then goes slack as he runs his hand up and down your side. Shame blankets you but the fear etched into you keeps you still. 

 Roman loosens his tie. 

 Your mind falls out of your reach. 

 “Such a good little slut.” He murmurs against your lips.

 NO

 You wanted to say. 

 Instead, your mind starts counting again even as you hear the rustle of fabric. 

 .

.

.

. 

 BANG

 A gunshot rings through the thick atmosphere of the room. 

 Roman curses. 

 His men stampede. 

 Another round of shots fire. 

 Something- No, no.  Someone tears Roman off of you. 

 “Deathstroke?” You croak, your voice sounding foreign and absurdly brittle. 

 “Do you know anyone else walking around looking like this, kid?”

 “Ravager” You snark, lips twitching into a smile. He rolls his eyes underneath his mask. The familiarity of the exchange breathes life into your body. Roman’s hand grips your wrist with bruising intensity. Your breath catches. 

 No. No. No.

 The word loops in your head like a constant rat-tat. 

 Slade’s foot makes contact with Roman’s head, the force of it unnecessary but satisfactory. The sounds of bone-cracking fill the air. The man falls uselessly to the grimey floor. He shoots him with a couple of rounds for good measure, each shot instilling a pang of finality in the back of your mind. 

 You scrabble towards Slade, wide-eyed and shallow breathed.  You cling to Slade as he bundles your body in silken sheets.  He hoists you easily into his arms. You bury your face into the junction between his neck and shoulder, closing your eyes, the image of Roman’s bloody body on the floor pressed into your mind. You sob in relief. Your hands clasping onto Slade, white-knuckled and shaking.

  "I've got you, sweetheart," He rumbles, running his hand through your hair soothingly. The tight knots in your body, loosen. You whimper a quiet thank you. “I’ve got you.”

 You lift your head only to see Roman twitch. 

 Your breathing falters. 

 Fear pricks your spine. 

 Your mind falls away from you again. 

 Distantly, you feel Slade’s grip on you tightens. 

 Distantly, you hear him murmur something. 

 Everything is too far away. 

 Your eyes blink sluggishly. The world becomes dimmer with each blink. 

 .

.

.

.

 A warm spray of water drizzles down over your aching skin. Your open wounds sting but the warm water pooling around you soothes the aches of your bruised flesh. Your eyes focus on the soft off-white of the tile on the wall opposite you. You don’t let yourself about the thin, rusty red film swirling in the water. The air in the room is thick with steam and the scent of lavender. 

 The absence of grime on your skin makes you feel lighter and gauzy and immaterial. You felt naked and obscene like you had been taken apart and now someone was examining pieces of you. You almost miss it. 

 “Lean back” Slade grumbles as he lathers your hair with some lavender concoction the hotel provided. Your body follows automatically, eagerly, obediently. You tell yourself you’re just tired. You tell yourself nothing’s wrong with your response. You tell yourself you’re ok. You wince. The warm water around you shifts. You hear it splash against the tile. You flinch at how loud it sounds. You take a deep breath and lean into his touch. He’s handling you delicately as though you would fall apart any second. You might. 

 Blinking away tears, you watch his face, aware that by leaning back, you’d be giving him a good view of the hickies, bite marks, and knife wounds Roman ‘gifted’ you. There’s a slight twitch in the corners of his lips. He must be disgusted with you too. You want to sink into the hot water and let it burn you anew, but you don’t trust yourself not to drown.   

 You close your eyes as another spray of warm water pours over you. You melt into it hoping it’s enough to wash the last few days- weeks?- away. 

.

.

. 

 Your hands grasp his face, pulling him towards you. His hands brace against the tub, keeping him from falling in with you. Your arms loop around his neck, your hot breath fanning against his lips. You press your lips against him, searching and wanting. For what exactly? Comfort? Safety? Stimulation? His lips press lightly against yours, not quite a kiss. Slade actually looks taken aback. 

 The rest of the world floods back in. You peel away, your eyes wide with terror. “Shit- I’m- Fuck! Fuck! Shit, Slade, I- I’m sorry. I- Shit! I didn’t-” Your breathing ratchets up, becoming shallower as the pulsating in your ears grow louder. There’s a tightness growing in your chest that makes you think your ribcage is about to implode. You cover your face with your hands not caring how it didn’t help your shallowing breaths. You can’t look at him. You just can’t. You know you’re disgusting. 

 Your body wants to come apart, dissolve, and if it can, evaporate. You can’t breathe. You curl into yourself, into the water. A hand grabs at your wrist. You flinch. The hand carefully pries your hand away, forcing you to uncurl. Slade’s other hand cups your face gently, guiding you to look him in the eye. The lack of disgust in his face rattles you.

 His thumb brushes against your lips making your stomach twist and your spine curl. He dips his head closer to yours. You kiss him eagerly. He lets out a pleased hum and smiles against your lips. Something cold licks at the bottom of your stomach but it’s overtaken by the need for connection, to fill in what had been hollowed out.   

You press closer to him than strictly necessary as you watch the news, chewing on your cheek.  He pulls you close, shifting you on to his lap. You don’t protest, eyes glued to the TV. 

 “Businessman, Roman Sionis, was found with several gunshot wounds to the stomach in one of his warehouses here in Minos City. He is now in stable condition. Authorities say...”

 Your jaw falls slack in mute horror. Your stomach tumbles to the floor.  You’re hyperventilating. Your teeth are digging into your cheek, you taste copper. Your mind spirals back into the room, back to the dirty mattress, back to Roman. 

 Strong arms wrap around you, stilling your trembling body against a broad chest. Your body relaxes a fraction. You curl into him, the buzz of nervous energy settling into a quieter panic. 

 “You’re safe with me, you know that don’t you, sweetheart?” Slade says tracing circles into your palm. You lean your head into his shoulder. You nod easing against him. “I’ll never let that monster anywhere near you.” He promises, pressing a kiss into your hair. A little sob wrenches free of your imploding chest. 

 Slade keeps his face buried in your hair even as you fall into a lull. It was the only way to hide the triumphant grin spreading across his face. 

 “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll take good care of you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/n: Thanks for reading. There’s a follow up to this because I can’t cope with bad endings. I had to promise myself a good second part to make the ending horrifying. 

The writing process for this fic was basically:

Me: I have this horrifying idea!

My brain: Yes but what if we put a little dork Jason in it. 

Me: I guess that wouldn’t hurt. 

Me: Ok I have written nearly 2k of dorky Jason where’s the other parts?

Brain: Uh what other parts?

Me: *sighs and spends the next few days spamming @knightfall05x*

taglist: 

@batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell

[labyrinthof-fan-fiction]

Two Ships Passing in the Night {8}

Part 8

Series Masterlist

Spock x fem!Reader, Bones x fem!Reader

AOS

Summary: Time for you and Leonard to face the music.

A/N: If you had any idea how many times I have rewritten this part to get somewhere I was happy with it. But now it’s here and I didn’t delete it this time. Thank you so much for your patience!!!!!

Warnings: Drugged Drinks, Make Out Session, I think that’s it.

Word Count: 2,009

Leonard woke up with a splitting headache. He groaned and rolled over, pulling the covers around his neck. He froze, these weren’t his covers, where the hell was he, this wasn’t his quarters. He recognized the setup of a Starfleet medbay, it wasn’t his medbay.

He sat up quickly and felt his head start to spin. “Mother fu…”

“Finish that and I will finish you.” Dr. Ambrose cut him off, walking in and glancing at his monitors. She glanced over at Leonard whose eyes were flitting nervously about the room. “She’s fine, I sent her to bed. Last thing I needed was her being moony eyed over you all night. If you have any idea how much time I spend making her get out of the Captain’s chair.”

Leonard groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. “What happened?”

Ambrose chuckled, “Someone spiked your drink, you passed out. Captain and the Vulcan brought you back.”

Leonard let out a huff of air. So Spock had brought him in with you, where was he now? He tried to shake that thought from his mind. Ambrose glanced at him, he was broken from his thoughts by a dry chuckle from her.

“I will let her know you’re awake.” She said, walking into her office. Leonard could see her clicking the comms. He couldn’t hear your voice, what you said to Ambrose, who let out a laugh at something you said. His stomach twisted and he wasn’t sure if it was from the hangover or nerves, maybe a bit of both. He cursed himself for the amount of alcohol he consumed, dumb ass. His mind started creating scenarios for what was going to happen when you walked into the medbay. Maybe you’d throw him off the ship, you and Spock were getting married, you and Spock were going to single handedly repopulate New Vulcan. God, he wondered what he’d have to do to get Scotty to toss him into the warp core. His mind continued racing, then he heard soft footfalls and a golden silhouette appeared in the doorway.

Last night hadn’t been what you had expected, well, maybe with Spock, but not with Leonard. Spock had carried him back to your ship, it made sense, the Enterprise medical officer was unconscious, and you knew Ambrose was aboard, she despised shore leave. “Makes more sense for me to stay on the ship, someone always does something stupid and needs me here.” She grumbled, but you didn’t miss the novel she had tucked under her arm.

Spock placed him on a bed and Ambrose shuffled you, Spock, and Uhura away from the bed. Uhura’s eyes flicked between you and Spock, only stopping when he draped his arm over her shoulder. She gazed at you, a question very obvious in her eyes, you gave a small shake of your head. You hadn’t been close, but you respected her and you respected her relationship with Spock. If you were in her shoes, you would have been worried.

“I suppose we should head back to the Enterprise for the night.” Spock said, tilting his head towards the doorway. Uhura started out the door, Spock on her heels.

“Spock.” You murmured, he stopped and glanced back. “For the record, I don’t mind sharing with Uhura.”

The tiniest of smiles came across the Vulcan’s face, he nodded towards Leonard on the bed. “Talk to him.” He left the ship and you turned back to Leonard and Ambrose.

“Hell of a boy, you’ve got here.” Ambrose muttered over the sounds of machines beeping. “Aside from the amount of alcohol in his system and someone dosed him with a strong drug, he’s fine.”

You flinched, moving to Leonard’s side, your hand hovered over the rail of the bed before resting a few inches from his. “Will he be okay?”

“He’ll be fine, have a headache in the morning, no more than he deserves.” Ambrose answered, you didn’t miss the look she gave you over her glasses.

“I could stay, in case something changes.” You started.

“You and that little one are going to go sleep in your quarters. I’ll be damned if you put anymore stress on yourself and the baby. If anything happens with him I will make sure you’re down here.” Ambrose responded, shooing you out of the medbay. You knew there was no point in arguing with her, even though you were the captain, you weren’t going to fight with Ambrose. She and Leonard shared the same affinity for hypos, it made you wonder about what they were teaching in the Medical Corps.

You snuggled into your covers, your quarters quiet, you closed your eyes and willed yourself to sleep. You and Spock had started to heal the rift between you, together you were parents, that was all. That was all you needed from him. Tomorrow, tomorrow you would speak with Leonard. The tension from earlier faded from your shoulders and the weariness started to pull you into dreamland. You drifted off thinking about that southern drawl and the smell of peaches.

In the morning, Ambrose called and Leonard was awake. “He’s fine, headache, dehydration, what you’d expect from someone who partied too hard on shore leave.”

“I doubt he was partying.” You retorted.

Ambrose laughed, “Alright, I won’t say anything rude about lover boy.”

You got into uniform as fast as you could, which was not as fast as you would have liked, but adjusting to your new size just hadn’t clicked. Your mind was racing, what would you say, what would he say. Oh, god, he didn’t know what you had said to Spock, who knew what he thought. Your mind continued as you made your way to the medbay. Leonard was on his back, propped up to the sitting position with pillows and staring up at the ceiling. You stopped in your tracks when his head turned and those hazel eyes fixed on you. A small smile fell onto your lips, “Hey, darlin’.” You murmured, walking to his bedside. Ambrose was in her office, nose stuck in the novel that she had started once the ship had emptied.

He groaned and covered his face as you sat in the chair next to his bed. “I’m an ass.” He mumbled from beneath his arm.

“I mean, there’s a few adjectives we can add to that statement to make it more interesting.” You started. “Dumb, crazy, stupid, to name a few.”

He turned his head to look at you, his eyes meeting yours before traveling down to your bump. “Kid’s gotten big.”

You quirked an eyebrow, “Are you calling me fat, Leonard McCoy?”

Panic filled his eyes and reached out, his hand resting on your cheek, gently turning your gaze to his. “You’re just as beautiful as the day I met you.” Maybe some of last night’s liquid courage was still flowing through his veins. Maybe he was throwing all his cards on the table as a final Hail Mary. Regardless of the reason, the words were out of his mouth as soon as they were in his mind.

Warmth flooded your face, the sound of your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. “In that seedy bar that Jim dragged us to every week?” His thumb brushed against your cheek before he removed his hand, you grabbed his wrist and leaned into his hand, tilting your head to put a gentle kiss into his palm.

“I would go to that bar everyday if it meant I’d get to spend even five minutes with you.” Leonard murmured, his heart racing in his chest. He wasn’t sure what you had said to Spock last night, what you both had decided, but he had to say his piece. He had to let you know, even if it closed the door between you for ever. “I’ve loved you since the day you walked into that bar.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered into his hand, pulling back and taking his hand in yours, your fingers locking together.

He chuckled, “Darlin’ you have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry I got drunk off my ass last night, I’m sorry I never said anything before, I’m so sorry.” He sighed. “I’m sorry that I have to ask this. But I’ve got to know, where do we stand?”

You stared down at your joined hands, he loved you. You loved him, why was it so hard for you to say it out loud? Last night you and Spock had closed the book on your romantic story, and you knew that was right. In your mind, you knew that the man in the bed, he was the new page, the book that would never end. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze and you looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry that it took me so long, to know that I love you.” You whispered, his eyes widened and a smile across his face. “If I’d have figured it out sooner, maybe things…”

“Don’t think like that.” Leonard interrupted, he pulled himself up to sit taller, he slid his legs over the side of the bed and shifted to the edge so his face was inches from yours. “Whatever has happened to get us here, it happened.” His free hand moved to rest on your stomach. “We’re here.”

You looked up at him, his hand still resting on your stomach, you slid your free hand to the back of his neck and pulled him towards you, your lips crashing into his. For a moment the galaxies stopped spinning, it was desperate, like you were afraid that pulling apart would cause you to wake up from this dream. You could still taste the stale whiskey on his tongue, but you didn’t care, his hand wrapped in your hair, deepening the kiss. You swore he was breathing you in like you were his last breath, his teeth nipped at your bottom lip and a small moan fell from your lips. Leonard gave a gentle peck to your lips then pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you.” He whispered, placing another quick kiss to your lips.

“About damn time.” A voice called from behind you, Leonard groaned and pulled away from you.

“Jim.” He greeted, the familiar surliness strong in his tone.

“Now Bones, I’d think that kiss would’ve at least knocked some of that attitude out of you.” Jim chuckled, coming up beside you. “Captain.” He greeted, giving you a nod and a wink.

“You know that’s just part of my charm.” Leonard responded, his fingers still locked with yours. “What are you doing here?”

Jim pulled a chair beside yours, chuckling as he sat down. “My medical officer was put in a medbay on a different ship, had to make sure he was okay. Especially since the captain of the ship was occupied with diplomatic relations when I tried to contact her.” Jim wiggled his eyebrows and your free hand shot out and swatted at his shoulder. “Hey! That is not very diplomatic of you!”

“Diplomatic my ass.” You grumbled, but there was no menace behind it, and Jim knew it.

“No wonder the Federation hasn’t been making any progress on diplomatic matters with you on the helm.” Jim jabbed.

“It’s a miracle the Federation has an exploration team with you at the helm.” Leonard grumbled, glaring at Jim.

“I have an amazing medical officer who keeps them all in one piece.” Jim retorted, a smile on his face. Leonard rolled his eyes. “Besides, had to say hi to the little one.” His attention turned to your stomach. “Gotta make sure he knows how good it is to be in command gold.” You chuckled as he reached out to your stomach, then glanced up, asking permission. You nodded. He smiled and rested his hand gently against the bump. “Command gold little buddy. It’s the best. Then you can be a captain like Uncle Jim and Mommy.”

“I’m partial to science blues.” Leonard murmured.

You met his eyes, “Seems I am too.”

Taglist:

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@cobe76

@elizabeththefandomgirl

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